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diff --git a/old/52375-h/52375-h.htm b/old/52375-h/52375-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 22033bc..0000000 --- a/old/52375-h/52375-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8785 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> - <head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> - <title> - The Project Gutenberg eBook of Blue-stocking Hall, by William Pitt Scargill - </title> - <style type="text/css"> -body { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - -.chapter {page-break-before: always;} - -h1, h2 { - text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ - clear: both; -} - -p { - margin-top: .51em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .49em; -} - -hr.tb {width: 25%; margin: 2em 37.5%;} -hr.chap {width: 60%; margin: 2em 20%;} - -.right {text-align: right;} - -.padding-right15 {padding-right: 15em;} -.padding-right9 {padding-right: 9em;} -.padding-right6 {padding-right: 6em;} -.padding-right5 {padding-right: 5em;} -.padding-right4 {padding-right: 4em;} -.padding-right3 {padding-right: 3em;} -.padding-right2 {padding-right: 2em;} -.padding-right1 {padding-right: 1em;} - -.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ - /* visibility: hidden; */ - position: absolute; - left: 92%; - font-size: smaller; - text-align: right; -} /* page numbers */ - -.smcap{font-variant: small-caps;} - -.center {text-align: center;} -.mt2 {margin-top: 0.5em;} -p.title2 {font-size: 2.5em;} -p.title3 {font-size: 2.0em;} -p.title4 {font-size: 1.2em;} - -/* Images */ -.figcenter { - margin: auto; - text-align: center; - -} - -/* Poetry */ - -.poetry-container {text-align: center; margin: 0;} -.poem {display: inline-block; text-align: left;} -.poem .verse {margin: 1em 0;} -.poem .line {text-indent: -3em; padding-left: 3em;} -.poem .indent {margin-left: 1em;} -.poem .indent8 {margin-left: 11em;} -.poem .indent10 {margin-left: 13em;} -.poem .indent12 {margin-left: 14em;} -.poem .outdent {margin-left: -.5em;} - -@media handheld { -hr.chap {border-width: 0em; margin: 0em;} -} - </style> - </head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Blue-Stocking Hall, Vol. II of III, by -William Pitt Scargill - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: Blue-Stocking Hall, Vol. II of III - -Author: William Pitt Scargill - -Release Date: June 19, 2016 [EBook #52375] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BLUE-STOCKING HALL, VOL. II OF III *** - - - - -Produced by Charlene Taylor, David K. Park, Heather Clark -and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at -http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images -generously made available by The Internet Archive) - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img id="coverpage" src="images/cover.jpg" width="500" height="763" alt="Front Cover" /> -</div> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p class="center">J. B. NICHOLS, 25, PARLIAMENT STREET.</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="chap" /> -<h1>BLUE-STOCKING HALL.</h1></div> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poem"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">"From woman's eyes this doctrine I derive:</div> -<div class="line">They sparkle still the right Promethean fire;</div> -<div class="line">They are the books, the arts, the academes,</div> -<div class="line">That show, contain, and nourish all the world."</div> -</div> -<div class="right"><span class="smcap">Love's Labour Lost.</span></div> -</div></div> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p class="center mt2 title4">IN THREE VOLUMES.</p> - -<p class="center mt2 title3">VOL. II.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p class="center mt2 title4">LONDON:</p> - -<p class="center mt2 title4">HENRY COLBURN, NEW BURLINGTON STREET.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p class="center mt2 title4">1827.</p> - -<div class="chapter"><hr class="chap" /> -<p class="center mt2 title2">BLUE-STOCKING HALL.</p> -</div> - -<h2>LETTER XII.</h2> -<p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Mr. Otway to General Douglas.</span></p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<blockquote> -<p>[In point of <i>time</i>, this letter should not appear till later in the -series; but as it is an answer to the preceding, the Editor -judged it expedient to insert it in this place.]</p></blockquote> - -<hr class="tb" /> -<p class="right padding-right2"><i>Lisfarne</i>.</p> -<p>My dear General,</p> - -<p>It gave me sincere pleasure to see your hand-writing -once more; and if I had required any -thing beyond the gratification of an assurance -that you had not forgotten your old friend, -to put me in good humour, the commission -which you have given me would secure all the -benevolence of which I am possessed in excusing <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> -your long silence. Most readily do I accept -the trust which you confide in me, and happy -shall I be if my exertions facilitate the event of -your return to your native land, there to enjoy -the <i>otium cum dignitate</i> to which every man -naturally aspires who has passed the best of his -days in toiling for and realizing an honorable -independence.</p> - -<p>It is one of the sophisms of this paradoxical -age in which we live, to prove that the absentee -commits no crime against either patriotism, or -political economy; but I rejoice that you have -not fallen into the snare, and are coming to repose -your mind, and spend your money, where -every honest man ought to bring himself to -anchor; namely, in his own country, and -amongst his own people. By a lucky coincidence -there is a splendid mansion with highly -finished grounds and plantations, just offered -for sale in Hampshire; and if I am fortunate -enough to conclude a bargain for the sum -which I have offered in your name, I shall think -myself no ordinary diplomatist. The present -possessor, Sir Reginald Barnes, is like yourself, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> -a <i>nabob</i>, but after rendering his demesne at -Marsden a fit residence for a prince, he is grown -weary of it, and is so anxious to dispose of the -whole as it stands, that I am not without hope -of procuring all you want at a single stroke.</p> - -<p>This letter shall be sent through Ingoldsby, to -catch you at the Cape, and of my farther negociation -with Mr. Snubb, Sir Reginald's agent, -you shall have due notice. I know the place for -which I am in treaty, and therefore, if I succeed, -my <i>trouble</i> will be as <i>zero</i>. If not, I must -look elsewhere, and you shall have reports of -progress.</p> - -<p>With respect to your relations, I have the -pleasure to give you satisfactory intelligence. -Your eldest brother, poor man, was rapidly -advancing towards "that bourne from which no -traveller returns," when Mr. Howard died and -left him a fine estate, though very heavily burthened, -in Buckinghamshire, together with his -house in Grosvenor-square, plate, books, etcætera. -To substitute the name of Howard -for that of Douglas was all the qualification -required to enable the family to take possession, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> -and this was soon arranged. Your brother -was taken to his grave without ever having -visited any part of his new property, of which -young Arthur is the heir, and a very fine -youth he is: he will soon be of age, and is -now on a visit in this neighbourhood to his -aunt, Mrs. Henry Douglas, who lives at a -sweet spot which you may remember that I -purchased for my invaluable friend. A legacy -of £20,000 left to your sister-in-law, by her -great aunt, old Mrs. Norton, has enabled that -first of women and mothers to reside at Glenalta, -where she lives adored by her children, -and by all who surround her dwelling. I have -the happiness to enjoy the beloved society -which her family affords, from which I am not -more than half a mile distant, and here I shall -hope to see you, ere long, added to the circle. -Of Mrs. Howard and her daughters I only -know by report: they live <i>in</i> the world, and I -<i>out</i> of it; but of Caroline and her children I -can venture to affirm, that had independence -(beyond which their wishes never appear to -extend) been withheld by Providence, you <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> -would never have known them in the character -of needy suppliants, or cringing sycophants. -They are as much above any people with -whom I am acquainted in every noble principle -of heart, as they excel all others that I have met -with in their powers of pleasing. Your nephew -is likely to make a distinguished figure at the -University, and is as amiable as he is clever.</p> - -<p>There are three girls, all pretty and accomplished; -and as to your sister, she is such a -woman as, when you have once been in her -company, will no longer permit you to remain -in astonishment that our dear lamented -Henry should have preferred poverty itself in -Caroline's society, to the wealth of Potosi -without her.</p> - -<p>I trust to your own taste and discrimination -for this tribute to your departed brother -when you become acquainted with the object -of his tenderest and unceasing affection; and -will not take up any more time in describing the -characters of your family, nor anticipate the -delight which you will feel in exercising your -own judgment as they develope themselves to <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> -your penetrating eye.</p> - -<p>The family of Glenalta beg to send you, -through me, their affectionate greetings, and -old Bentley, who is likewise a neighbour of -mine, and as <i>caustic</i> as ever, desires me to -say how much he rejoices in the hope of -shaking you by the hand.</p> - -<p>Farewell, my dear General! may you have -a prosperous voyage, and be permitted, ere -long, to set your foot on British ground once -more! Believe me very</p> - -<p class="right"><span class="padding-right4">Sincerely and faithfully yours,</span><br /> -<span class="smcap padding-right2">Ed. Otway.</span><br /> -</p> - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - -<p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p> - -<h2>LETTER XIII.</h2> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Eliza Sandford to Mrs. Douglas.</span></p> - -<p> -My beloved Friend, -</p> - -<p>Your kind affection has anticipated all that -I have to say: it has pleaded for me more powerfully -than I could do for myslf, and has surely -told you how much I have been engaged on returning -after so long an absence, to Checkley. -At last I begin to breathe; and my little Agnes -makes such rapid advance to returning health, -that I can now, without self-reproach, indulge -in the dearest pleasure of life except that of -conversing with you, and begin once more to -pour out my heart into your faithful bosom. -I may now in full security of our punctual English -posts give you undisguised details of every -thing most interesting, and expect the same from -you, till the happy season arrive which will, I -trust, re-unite us, and give me the delight of <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> -re-visiting Glenalta. I must obey you before I -follow the dictates of my own feelings, and answer -your questions ere I touch upon matter of -another description. "Describe your girls," -you say. Well, then, in a few words, they are -dear children: Julia is a charming creature, -and if I do not take the <i>mother too much upon -me</i> in saying so, is worthy of that friendship -which is the boast and pride of her life, and -which is bestowed upon her by your Emily. -<i>Such</i> a letter as she has lately received, describing -<i>the retreat</i>! but I must not digress. -Julia, then, is really, at seventeen, a most interesting -character. She is docile as possible, -singularly artless and innocent, yet possessed of -admirable faculties, which appear capable of -application to a great variety of different pursuits. -In short, whatever Julia attempts she -accomplishes, and performs well, but without -the slightest vanity that I have been able to detect. -Bertha is handsomer, <i>quicker</i>, and more -striking, though not nearly so solid nor reflecting -as her elder sister. She commits more -faults in a week than Julia in a year, from an <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> -impetuosity of temper which was not corrected -while she was a little one; but her contrition is -so genuine, and her nature so frank, that I -always find myself loving her better than I did -before whenever she has offended. She will -be fifteen, you know, her next birth-day, and -is certainly much improved since we went -abroad.</p> - -<p>The extreme youth of my dear girls, my -particular <i>object</i> in leaving England being <i>truly</i> -the recovery of health for one of them; the -recent losses which they had sustained, and my -dislike of company, all conspired to preserve -<i>us</i> from the contagion of foreign influence; -while I was enabled, by taking my young charge -entirely from home, to break at once through a -thousand ties which would have perplexed me -exceedingly had I remained at Checkley. What -I should have found much difficulty in <i>gradually</i> -unloosening, I have now boldly dissevered, -I shall not hold myself under any -obligation to resume the thread of acquaintance -with any whose society may not be advantageous -to my young people, who at present furnish me <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> -with ample excuse for declining <i>all</i> invitations, -and thus avoiding <i>jealousy</i> on the part of our -neighbours. Julia has never been in company, -and is the only one of my girls whose age makes -it <i>expected</i> that she should go out. Bertha will -suffer no <i>persecution</i> as yet, and my little dear -Agnes is <i>hors de combat</i>. Her delicate state affords -me a reason, as genuinely sincere as it is -opportune, for lying by in perfect tranquillity; -and during this happy <i>interregnum</i> I shall profit -by your advice, and learn to act with decision -when I am forced out of my retirement.</p> - -<p>As I consider myself only in the light of -<i>guardian</i>, and have really no <i>stake</i> in this country -myself, even the most calculating of the -neighbouring gentry must perceive that I am -not bound to any particular style of life; and -the more discriminating amongst them, I may -hope, will give me credit for acting upon principle. -This is all that I want. I know how -impossible it is to <i>please</i> every body, and indeed -I wonder how an upright mind should desire -the approval of a multitude made up of the -most discordant elements; but I am much puzzled, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> -notwithstanding, what course to steer, and -shall require all your pilotage to keep me steadily -in the right track. To give you an idea of -my dilemma, I must tell you what sort of people -we are living amongst, and present you with a -survey of our vicinage, before you can be of use -in directing my steps.</p> - -<p>The Burleys, who are our nearest neighbours, -are people of large fortune, and decidedly -children of this world. They have sons and -daughters all brought up in luxury. They have -a house in London, go to town every year, have -large expectancies, and <i>so</i> no doubt are full of -the present "life's futurities;" but while they -are in the country, they are inclined to be very -friendly, and it will not be <i>their</i> fault if the inhabitants -of their splendid hall and those of -humbler Checkley are not allied in close intimacy. -I am quite aware how the homely adage -of "for want of company, welcome trumpery," -applies upon many occasions when fine people -leave the "flaunting crowd," and come to rusticate -for a season in their country seats. But -the Burleys, to do them justice, seem to wish <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> -for a familiar acquaintance on truer principles. -Sir Thomas is a complete Englishmen, worthy, -hospitable, open-hearted, up to the eyes in -county politics, and when the affairs of this -<i>wider</i> range are so balanced as not to call forth -the extent of his powers, the parish cabals supply -an under plot, which is sure to keep them -in full practice for larger matters when they may -arrive. At present, the game laws absorb all -that is not given to conviviality, in the circuit -of his head and heart, <i>without</i> the pale of his -own family, <i>in</i> which he is deservedly beloved, -and <i>of</i> which he is the sun-beam. Lady B. is -simply vapid. She is neither ill-natured nor -unkind, but so exceedingly insipid, that were -not a log as troublesome as a wasp, though not -so active, you might be justified in forgetting -that she makes one of the family group. Devoured -by <i>ennui</i> herself, she operates on all -around her till the whole mass would be <i>vaporized</i>, -were it not for the broad good-humour of -her spouse, who is as alert as she is inanimate. -They do not <i>quarrel</i>, however, and the young -people, though very uninteresting, are sufficiently <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> -alive to keep up something like cheerfulness, -though not of that species which the -French appropriately denominate <i>gaieté du coeur</i>. -The <i>talk</i> at Burley Hall is so entirely of fashion, -and <i>supposes</i> such a sympathy of pursuit, as well -as conversancy with topics of which Julia is ignorant, -that I question the honesty of permitting -her to associate amongst those whose -thoughts and feelings are so much at variance -with her own, and of such a nature that I never -desire to see her approximate to increased congeniality -with them.</p> - -<p>A mile farther off, we have the Henleys; -excellent people, who are from morning till -night engaged in doing good. They are rich -and bountiful, friendly and good-humoured, -but so strict, and so devoted to the <i>letter</i> of their -particular sect, that if you agreed to travel with -them over a line which had been divided into a -hundred distinct measures, of a cubit length in -each, and that after performing ninety-nine -steps in the series, you were to stop at the hundredth, -your former task would go for nothing, -and you would be as completely distanced as if <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> -you had never attempted to walk the course. -These good people are anxious in the greatest -degree to enlist my young folks, and like the -nuns think it no harm to employ every art of -affectionate inveiglement to persuade them into -an adoption of a certain distinctive phraseology, -and <i>form</i> of thinking which I do not like, and -therefore shall endeavour to avoid without wishing -to repel the kind fellowship which is proffered, -though I conclude that <i>our</i> religion will -be at once condemned, when it is discovered -that I do not disapprove of many things which -are proscribed at the Priory. I heard it rumoured -the other day, that I am considered one -of the <i>pie-bald</i> race. What am I to do?</p> - -<p>Well, a third description of neighbour, and -by much the most numerous, I find planted in -three or four pretty places at no great distance -from Checkley. There is a family of Liner, -another of Peachum, and others whose names I -need not plague you by calling over, who with -competent fortunes enjoy all the comfort of life -which money can bestow, and feel all the title to -consideration which belongs to independence; <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> -<i>but</i> who are so intolerably dull, unimproving, and -self-complacent, so vulgar too in a perpetual rivalry -of fine dinners, fine furniture, and fine -dress, which have not even the stamp of fashion -to recommend them, that my mind revolts -against introducing my nieces into such a society -as they form.</p> - -<p>A fourth order remains to be mentioned, -and here my pen could expatiate, untired of so -delightful a theme. There is a family of Stanley -who live six miles from this, and with whom it -would be delightful to live in constant communion, -if the distance between our two houses did -not throw a barrier in the way of daily intercourse. -They put me in mind of the Douglas -circle, and can I say more to mark the estimation -in which I hold them? Father, mother, -and children of both sexes are superior to almost -any people that I have ever met with, -learned, informed, accomplished, the mind is -kept in a continual round of exertion in their -company, refreshing from its variety, and stimulating -from its animation. An hour passed at -Brandon Court supplies materials for a week's <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> -<i>rumination</i>; and, like animals that chew the -cud, we repose day after day, living on the nutriment -which we have collected in the fertile -pastures of that attractive spot. Nature's economy -is such, in the midst of her lavish profusion, -that she seldom endows the same individual -with very opposite qualities; and we usually -seek for the serenity of contemplation in scenes -and amongst people far remote from the busy -practitioner. The Stanleys, like yourselves, -combine all the characteristics so rarely found -in union. At Brandon Court you have meditation, -not monastic—seriousness, not rigid—sentiment, -never morbid—and practical energy, -neither coarse nor bustling. Perfect harmony -subsists amongst the various members of the interesting -group. Mr. and Mrs. Stanley are -truly <i>one</i>. Every thought expressed by either, -meets from the other a response of delighted affection, -whilst a joyous band of happy youth -disport around them, whose only rivalry consists -in trying who shall contribute most to the general -stock of happiness, and pay most attention <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> -to the cherished authors of their being.</p> - -<p>I fancy that I hear you exclaim, "How can -Elizabeth hesitate? Why not cultivate the -Stanleys, and forget that there is a vulgar world -to be passed by?" I will tell you why Elizabeth -doubts what path to choose. These inestimable -persons are stigmatized by the paltry and -mindless animals who environ them, and the -Miss Stanleys are yclept blues, while all the rest -are called philosophers.</p> - -<p>For <i>myself</i> you know, that I have no possible -feeling upon such a subject. Were I called -<i>Blue</i>, because I was seen with the Stanleys, -or reading any thing but a novel, it would not -signify. <i>My</i> walk in life has long been determined, -and I have outlived (if indeed I ever -felt like the Mimosa upon such occasions) all -sensibility to those nick-names, which are so -generously bestowed upon single women. I am -a <i>veteran</i>, and can stand fire. I can endure to -be called by any appellation, the <i>true</i> meaning -of which, is that I have preferred remaining -unmarried to being encumbered by the cares of -wedded life; and if heaven have granted any <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> -measure of understanding, have chosen to employ, -rather than let it lie fallow. But this is -my individual view of the matter. Have I a -right to place my <i>nieces</i> in society which they -would certainly love and imitate? am I to incur -for them the obloquy that waits on superior -knowledge and acquirements in their sex? impeding -perhaps, also, the chances of that settlement -in future life which, though I have never -desired for myself, and am in reality very indifferent -about for them, I am still bound to -consider as the ordinance of nature, besides -being the point to which the artificial laws of -the world are universally directed. Many cares -will necessarily spring up in my way as I proceed, -but at present, how to steer a middle -course between Scylla and Charybdis is my -chief difficulty. With the inanity of fashion, -and its opposite vulgarity on the one hand; a -religion which deals too much in external observances, -and the reproach of female <i>learning</i> -on the other, is there any <i>honest</i> method by -which, without sacrificing integrity of principle, -I may <i>skim the cream</i> of <i>each</i> class, and save <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> -my children from the evils attendant upon <i>all</i> -the classes that I have described? Be my -Cumean Sybil; look into the page of destiny -for me; say what is before me, and how I shall -act.</p> - -<p>The priest in the proverb, "christens his -own child first;" you see that I have adopted -the same prudent maxim, and given you nothing -as yet, but my own story; but for this you need -no apology my dearest Caroline. Innumerable -interruptions break my purposes, and deprive -me of any command over my time just now. -By and by I shall be able to write less selfishly -I trust, and repay your kindness by more agreeable -matter than you will find in a <i>dish</i> of egotism -which I have served up for your this day's -fare. Before I release you, however, I must -tell you that I was not a little surprised yesterday, -by the appearance of an Irish acquaintance, -Mr. Bentley, whom I have seen frequently -at Lisfarne, and uncle to George, who is, I believe, -an intimate still at your house, and Mr. -Otway's. When I was at Glenalta, the young -man was, I suppose, at the University, for I did <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> -not see him, but I heard the girls and Frederick -name him familiarly.</p> - -<p>In the midst of giving directions to my work-men, -a travelling carriage drove up to the hall-door, -and I was really delighted to see Mr. -Bentley, who is a highly respectable man, but -who appeared in a new light of interest to my -eyes, from all the associations which his presence -awakened. I endeavoured to shew how glad I -felt to see him; and though I could not prevail -with him to make a longer stay, he indulged me -by remaining, to pass a few hours, and walk -round our pretty grounds. In the course of -conversation, I asked for his nephew, and was -answered, that he was at Lisfarne, where he -would remain till Mr. Bentley, senior, returns to -the county of Kerry. I spoke of the advantage -which any young person must derive from such -society as that of Mr. Otway, upon whose character -I expatiated with my usual warmth.</p> - -<p>"Yes," replied Mr. Bentley, "Otway is a -noble fellow, though one of your <i>oddities</i>; and -poor George absolutely worships him, but nevertheless; -I am not very sure that his staying <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> -at Lisfarne is for either his happiness or advantage."</p> - -<p>"Pray, how so?" answered I, "with perfect -unconsciousness."</p> - -<p>"My dear madam," said the good man, -"your friends at Glenalta are too near I should -think, for my poor boy's peace. I do not say -that <i>it is</i> so. I only mean that such things -flow naturally from near neighbourhood, which -often brings people into <i>scrapes</i>. I have known -many a heart lost through the insensible influence -of contiguity. <i>Op</i>portunity is the deadliest -foe of the one sex, <i>Im</i>portunity of the -other; and between them both, many a match -is brought about, to which an unwilling consent -is wrung out of parents and guardians when it -is too late to withhold one's fiat."</p> - -<p>I looked grave, and begged him to be explicit. -"Do you speak merely," said I, "Mr. -Bentley, upon a general supposition of what -may be possible, or have you any reason to suppose -that your nephew's happiness is likely to -be endangered? Not the remotest suspicion has -ever glanced across <i>my</i> mind, and I should take <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> -it as a favour, if, since you have touched upon -the subject, you would enlighten me farther, by -mentioning the ground of your surmise?"</p> - -<p>"My dear ma'am, it is not <i>actually</i> surmise. -I may be wrong, and must acquit George of -having given me the slightest insight into his -mind. In fact, he is very close; it is the only -fault that I find with him, and my sole reason -for <i>suspecting</i>, is derived from my own observation -of his avidity to puzzle his brains about a -great many useless things, such as chemistry, -botany, and the like, which never put a guinea -into a young gentleman's pocket. Now, you -know that Mrs. Douglas and her daughters are -so learned, that they could sack a grand jury; -though I must do them the justice to add, that -no people in the country are more beloved than -they are. Nothing can exceed their unpretending -goodness. But George has no pretensions; -he must make his own way in the world, and -cannot afford to waste his precious hours in -learning what I call <i>fal lals</i>, that will never -help him through life. To tell you the honest -truth, I am a little jealous of both Lisfarne and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> -Glenalta. I see no business that any young -man has to love or like mortal better than his -own flesh and blood; and more time and wits -are lavished in these foolish <i>episodes</i> which just -end in nothing, than would put a man many a -mile forward in his professional career. People -fall in love through very idleness and vacuity. -A young tenant of my own, excused himself -lately, when I asked him what could possess him -to marry a girl without sixpence, by replying, -'Indeed, sir, she lived <i>so handy</i> that we were -always together, and 'twas the same thing we -thought to get married.' Poor George would -be probably dismissed by the Douglas family if -they entertained the least idea of such presumption, -as no doubt, a hope on my nephew's part, -would be considered; and you will therefore not -wonder, my dear Mrs. Sandford, that I am -anxious to get my business in London, and a -month at Buxton well over, that I may return -home, where it is necessary that George should -see after my affairs during my absence. I have -seen a great deal of life, though not upon a -<i>grand</i> scale; and I know the folly of romance. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> -Mrs. Douglas, I make no question, is as prudent -as she is sensible, and has never given her -children so elegant an education, to throw them -away upon paupers. My own opinion is, that -money is the only thing that does not disappoint. -I do not say the only thing that is <i>good</i>, far -from it; but while mental qualities may be only -feigned, sweet tempers and dispositions assumed -but for a season, accomplishments suffered -to languish, beauty doomed to fade, money -performs its promise, and procures all the comfort, -and all the happiness that it ever engages -to purchase. I repeat this every week of my -life to poor George, but he is so reserved, that I -never have the satisfaction of hearing whether -or not I make any impression upon him."</p> - -<p>To this <i>exposé</i>, I listened with the most profound -attention, and could only reply, "my -dear sir, it appears to me that you are putting -trouble out to interest, and <i>compound</i> interest, -by the view that you take of your family affairs. -I can assure you that the remotest hint has -never reached me, respecting any suspicion of a -feeling such as you ascribe to your nephew, who <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> -I dare say, is too much in the habit of venerating -your counsels to fly in your face, by presuming -to bestow his affections without your -approbation; though whenever he <i>does</i>, at some -distant period of his life, obtain your permission -to offer his hand in marriage, I conclude that -you will have no objection to his loving his wife -better than you, as he must make a solemn vow -to that effect, and cleave to her in preference to -all created things. But of one part of your -anxiety, I can with certainty relieve you; rest -assured, that if the slightest symptom appeared -to warrant my friend, Mrs. Douglas, in <i>imagining</i> -as you do, the most decisive measures would -be instantly adopted to prevent any painful -result."</p> - -<p>"I <i>thought</i> so; I always <i>said</i> so," rejoined -hastily, Mr. Bentley. "I knew that Mrs. -Douglas had a judgment too profound not to -determine on marrying her daughters to men of -fortune. I have told my opinion in George's -presence (not <i>to</i> him, for the last thing I should -desire, would be to convey to <i>his</i> mind, that an -idea, such as I have confided to you, ever entered <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> -<i>mine</i>), a thousand and a thousand times; and I -feel that my discernment is extremely flattered -by your assurance, that I saw how the land lay -so clearly. Your allusion to interest, and compound -interest, is very just and beautiful; and I -declare that you have set my mind quite at rest."</p> - -<p>So enraptured was the poor man, or rather I -<i>suspect, rich</i> man, with his own sagacity, and -my illustration, that I found the greatest possible -difficulty in edging in a word or two to undeceive -him respecting your mercenary projects. -If none are so blind as those who will not see, -there are certainly none more deaf than such as -will not hear. Full of courtesy, bustle, and -acknowledgment, this little worldly, but goodly -<i>puffin</i>, bundled himself up in his chaise, and -posted off, lightened of a load of care, and in -such buoyant humour, that I prophecy a fortnight -at Buxton will do the needful, and return -him in half the time that he had devoted to his -bodily weal, in a state of perfect restoration, to -Mount Prospect and "poor George."</p> - -<p>When he was gone, I resolved on giving you -intimation of all that had passed. It is very <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> -evident to me, that this visit, which I took so -kindly, was paid at Checkley, for the sole purpose -of <i>sounding</i>; and I think that I can perceive -exactly the conflict of his mind. His -vanity would be flattered to the highest degree, -by even the remotest hope that his nephew -might be accepted at Glenalta, while he is also -manifestly bent on a rich wife for George with -such hearty purpose, that no disappointment is -consequent upon believing, as he now does, that -there is no chance of a Miss Douglas for his -niece. I am <i>sure</i> that he has a very <i>snug</i> store -laid up somewhere or other; that being an old -batchelor, George is his object, and that had he -found reason for his conjecture in any confirmation -afforded by me, he would have taught himself -to be very well pleased, while he can, as -sincerely, turn the current of his thoughts into -another stream, in which he hopes that a larger -quantity of the precious metals may be found. -How comically people who are accustomed to -employ a little cunning in their devices, betray -themselves. Old Bentley, however, is a worthy -man; and a very acute, though rather a vulgar <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> -observer. You need not dread the slightest -indiscretion on his part, in making the young -man a party in his cogitations. One excellent -remark which he made with much shrewdness, -convinced me that you have nothing to fear on -that score. "Madam," said he, "I shall never -give George the remotest hint of what has been -passing in my head. No, no, when you want to -keep young people from committing themselves, -be very sure of what you are about, in expressing -your fears upon the subject. If you have -reason to <i>know</i> that there is an understanding, -why then you <i>must</i> either sanction or refuse, -and of course must speak; but if you have to -deal with timidity, or reserve, be assured that -the first word is half the battle; and in proclaiming -your own apprehensions, you have at one -stroke levelled a barrier which might have remained -for ever impregnable but for your incaution."</p> - -<p>Well, dearest friend, here is a long letter. -Let me have a speedy answer, and tell me of -George Bentley; is there any foundation for -his uncle's fancy: is he a person of whom you <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> -could ever think, for one of your dear children? -My sweet girls unite in all that is affectionate to -their young friends. Farewell.</p> - -<p class="right"> -<span class="padding-right4">I am ever your attached,</span><br /> -<span class="smcap padding-right3">Eliz. Sandford</span>.<br /> -</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span></p> - -<h2>LETTER XIV.</h2> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Arthur Howard to Charles Falkland.</span></p> -<p> -My dear Falkland, -</p> - -<p>Whether I blush or not is not for me to -tell; but surely I feel that I ought to do so. -Yes, it is an absolute fact, that I am ashamed to -recollect the date of my last letter; and, therefore, -if you please, we will hush it up. All that -I will put forward in extenuation of my guilt is, -that my journal bears weighty evidence to the -truth of your not being forgotten. In that -faithful repository you will find, one of these -days, a minute registry of all that passes; and I -promise myself much amusement at some future -time in recalling to my own mind, while I read -it to you, this record of the happiest period of -my life. Hey day! here is a downright confession. -Even so: and I am not inclined to -retract the avowal. As I am not in love, (at -least I do not <i>believe</i> that I am,) I suppose that <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> -I have less hesitation in proclaiming the state of -my feelings than were Dan Cupid to be a witness -to the declaration of my being more at -home at Glenalta, and more happy with the -Douglas family, than I ever felt at any place, -and amongst any people, since I was born. I -find one great disadvantage in having lost the -thread of my good old diary, for I know not -now where to begin or what to tell you, though -I would have you to know that my difficulty -does not arise from paucity of incident. On -the contrary, my time has been so occupied, -and so many novelties have varied the scene, -that I am, to use a homely illustration, in the -predicament of "not being able to see the wood -for trees." The <i>ground tint</i> of life at Glenalta -is soft and reposing, without being dead; and -it has latterly been <i>picked</i> out (my simile -savours, you will say, of Long Acre) by sundry -events which have given contrast to its colouring. -You are to be informed that I am up to -the eyes in all the pursuits which afford constant -delight to the Cousins: and would you <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> -believe that from morning till night I am never -conscious of time, except by its rapid flight? -Falkland, I am awakened as if from a heavy -sleep, which had dulled my faculties, and my -mind seems to take new views of everything. -Will this last? If it should, the age of man is -doubled by the animation of such feelings as -have been evolved in this Irish world. I tread -on air—the sun shines into my <i>heart</i>—and -you will never hear me again envying an opium-eater -while I live. In three days we set out for -Killarney; and, as I will certainly devote a letter -exclusively to the <i>Lakes</i>, this shall contain a -sketch of some minor exploits in the way of -sight-seeing.</p> - -<p>But I ought not to have proceeded thus far -without saying that our Fred. returned, after -his short absence, wreathed with victory; and I -would give more than I am worth to have been -able to call back the shade of Titian by some -magical incantation, that his glowing pencil -might have <i>fixed</i> that arrival in perennial freshness. -Domestic love, what an exquisite painter -thou art! Not all the most skilful efforts of <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> -factitious refinement can group and touch like -this artist of Nature.</p> - -<p>It was Frederick's plan to be his own messenger; -and, therefore, as no announcement of -success or failure preceded his appearance -amongst us, suspense hung upon the carriage-wheels -as it drove to the very door, and only -gave way to joyful assurance, from the uncontrolable -gladness of Domine's eye, which sparkled -a contradiction, detected at the first glance by -Fanny, to the serious air with which the travellers -had determined on playfully deceiving -the sisterhood. "The Science Premium" presently -resounded through the air, and a delighted -group of servants, headed by old Lawrence, -wafted the glad tidings to an outer circle, who -stood peeping from behind the holly-hedge, -ready to catch the first contagion that might -reach them of joy or sorrow, without understanding -how excited, or for what displayed.</p> - -<p>When the transport seemed at its height, -Mr. Oliphant abruptly exclaimed, "But how -easily you are all satisfied! Not a soul has -asked me what became of all <i>my</i> hard work at <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> -Greek and Latin." Here followed the news -that Fred. was doubly crowned, and had also -borne away the palm of classical triumph. This -was too much; the cup of bliss was full before, -and now it overflowed. No, I never saw any -thing like it; and even <i>this</i> scene, I suppose, -could never <i>again</i> produce the magical sensations -which I felt. The intensity of emotion, -and the gradations evinced in its exhibition, -from the silent, grateful tear that trickled down -the hectic cheek of aunt Douglas—then passing -through the gentle transports of Emily and -Charlotte, the mad delirium of Fanny, the -honest pride of Oliphant, the full, yet chastened -glow of Frederick, the paternal exultation of old -Lawrence, down to the untutored burst of the -barefooted mountaineers, reminded me forcibly -of that admirable picture by Le Thiers of the -Judgment of Brutus, in which you and I used -to admire the author's tact in apportioning the -varieties of expression in all those numerous -countenances, to the exact measure of refinement -in each which accompanied the feeling -that gave it birth. After the first tumult of <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> -congratulations had subsided, I ran to the seashore, -to get rid of some unwelcome thoughts, -that were not in unison with the scene which I -had witnessed, when I overtook a little band of -young peasants, who were dragging along large -bundles of what we call gorse, but is here yclept -furze; and this circumstance soon turned the -current of my musings.</p> - -<p>"Where are you going, my lads?" quoth I. -"Plase your honour, to get ready the bonfires -for Maaster Frederick agin the evening." "I -am a stranger in these parts, and should like to -know what all this work is for," said I, turning -to a fine, active youth, who led the van. "Why, -indeed, sir, I don't <i>rightly</i> know; but, be what -I can larn, Maasther Fred. is to be King o' the -College from this time out." "Och! you fool, -Jack!" cried another, "that isn't it at all. I -heard my father say just now that he was (that's -Maasther Fred.) <i>cheered</i> round the city like a -Parliamint man, and that he flogged all the -scholars in Ireland." "Well <i>you're</i> out too, -Flurry," vociferated a third; "for Nance Hagerty -tould Kit Lacy and she ought to know, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> -be raison of being about the cows morning and -evening at the big house, that Maaster Fred. -got a power of money for making an illigant -spaach about mancipashon."</p> - -<p>I was greatly amused. It was all the same to -these poor fellows. Joy was depicted on every -face at Glenalta, and to enquire into whys and -wherefores is quite too tame for the rush of Hibernian -sympathy. The meeting with <i>Phil.</i> was -another rich repast of mind; and young Bentley -seemed so share the scene like a brother. When -I returned to dinner, I found preparations going -forward near the house which ended in a -piper and a dance upon the green turf, in which -the young people of the family took part. A -great basket of bread-cakes sweetened with a -little sugar, and a single draught to each of -Kerry cider, made <i>all</i> the entertainment as related -to eating and drinking; hilarity and affection -supplied the rest, and I could not help remarking, -that I had never till then seen so -many people made supremely happy at so -trifling an expense. With us at Selby it would -have required the winning wiles of at least an <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> -ox, and tree tierces of ale, to have prevailed on -so many people to come together. When assembled, -they would neither pipe nor dance: -the gladdest tribute would consist in a few -deafening shouts, and, after some coarse and -clumsy merriment, the well-fed sons of England -would stagger home, filled to the throat, regardless -of all sentiment which could not be -identified with roast beef and brown stout. Only -give an Irish population permission to share in -your feelings, and you may have a crowd at -your heels in a moment, in any part of the -kingdom, as I am told; but I can now say from -experience, that, if you <i>deserve</i> affection, you -may have an honest flow of its choicest streams -unbought, except by reciprocating kindness. -These poor people would endure anything for -my aunt, her children, and Mr. Otway; and -though I have given you a ridiculous specimen -of ignorance, in relating the conversation of the -bonfire, I am bound in justice, as a <i>set off</i>, to add, -that when the festivities of the evening were at -an end, Mr. Oliphant beckoned to two youths, -who appeared to be about seventeen or eighteen, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> -and whom he called by the names of Cronin -and Riely, saying, "Boys, I know very well -that you are just longing to hear more about -Mr. Frederick, so come in the morning, bring -your Homer, and I will show you the part in -which he was examined." The poor fellows -seemed overjoyed, and kicking up a bare heel -behind, pulled each a lock of hair on his forehead -in token of thanks, neither of these young -men having a hat with which to perform the -ceremony of a bow, and this extra-ordinary mode -of salutation serving as the substitute here for a -more civilized mode of obeisance. To my -amazement, I now learned that several individuals -are to be found in these mountains who can -read Horace and Virgil familiarly. The Homer -which was brought in the morning was a curiosity -too, for so filthy, so broken, and so disjointed -a concern, I suppose you never beheld; -and it astonished me, not only to hear these tattered -academicians read passages with precision -which were almost effaced, but translate with -fidelity, of which Cowper would not have been -ashamed. Frederick gave them each a new <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> -book, and I presented a trifling sum to be expended -in shoes and hats, sending off our poor -scholars as happy as kings are said to be in -fairy tales. When Frederick had been at home -a day or two, he proposed that we should make -the first use of his liberty in extending our excursions -both by land and water. "We will begin -with the nearest object," said he, "and as -you enter with so much zeal into our Irish character, -I <i>must</i> take you to see a person whom we -have given the name of Wise Ned of the Hill." -The next day was appointed, and we were on -horseback at four in the morning, each provided -with a sort of <i>wallet</i>, containing an ample -supply of sandwiches, a small bottle of brandy, a -canister of snuff for Ned, with a large parcel of -newspapers, and a tin box (which Fanny insisted -on adding to our accoutrements) to be filled with -any plants which Glenalta did not produce. In -this rustic guise, accompanied by three fine dogs, -one of which is a noble animal of a species now -very scarce, namely, the Irish wolf dog, we commenced -our campaign, halting at Lisfarne, to -call for young Bentley, by whom we were speedily <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> -joined. As we rode along, I begged to -know in the true Irish style what it was that we -were going to see, and why "Ned of the Hill," -was worthy of a pilgrimage to his shrine. "He -is," said Frederick, "a most uncommon character, -and one who will, I think, reward your -trouble in <i>getting at him</i>, for I can tell you that -his only neighbours are the eagles. Ned, like -the poor boys of Homeric memory, received an -education beyond the vulgar level, in the days -of his youth. He was born of parents who were -strict Roman Catholics; and having an uncle -who was priest in a neighbouring parish, it was -intended that young Edmund Burke (a promising -name, you will say) should succeed to -his relation's holy office. With this view he -was taught Greek and Latin, though his temporal -situation was scarcely raised above absolute -want. His father was an idle profligate, his -mother a bigot, entirely under the control of -her brother, the priest. The boy grew up in -the strange jumble of fastings and confessions, -prayers and penances, with swearing, drinking, -and all manner of profaneness, acted continually <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> -in his presence, till his father was suddenly -seized with a fit of apoplexy, on recovering from -which he had some 'compunctious visitings,' -and desired his son, for the first time, to read -the Bible for him. There was none to be had -except one which had been left in pledge by a -poor Protestant woman, who owed a trifle to -the little shop kept by these people. Ned objected -to read out of such an unholy book, but -the father insisted, alleging that his time was -hastening to a close, and it was no season to -stand upon ceremonies. A Bible was a Bible; -and, if it was good <i>at all</i> to read it, the Protestant -version could not be <i>very</i> far astray. -Ned reluctantly complied, and felt it necessary -at first, I dare say, to perform a sort of quarantine -after touching the sacred volume; but his -father desired that neither his wife nor the priest -her brother should hear a word about the matter. -The invalid gradually recovered strength, -which he ascribed to the fit of piety that had -come upon him; and though he did not dream -of changing his religion, and was punctilious in -his observance of its rites, he still felt a sort of <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> -superstitious respect for the book that had been -instrumental in keeping up a serious impression -of divine things upon his mind; and was not -displeased at seeing his son frequently poring -over its contents after the daily task of reading -to the old man was ended."</p> - -<p>"At length Ned, through the single and simple -force of truth, became convinced of the -errors of the Romish Church; and, afraid to tell -his parents, he quitted home, and sought the -aid of an exemplary clergyman in an adjoining -county. From this gentleman he received the -kindest treatment, and the most judicious advice -not to be precipitate in the adoption of a new -creed. This good man gave him books, and -protected his destitute youth from persecution, -to which the poor fellow became subject, as soon -as it was hinted that he was likely to renounce -Popery; but Heaven had endowed Ned with -one of those acute understandings which are -rarely found in any class of men, and the -books which were given him by the excellent -pastor under whose tutelage he had placed himself, -did not satisfy his inquiring mind. Contending <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> -between a sense of duty to his family, -his temporal benefit, and the habits of his whole -life, on one side, and his newly awakened, and, -as he considered, providentially directed, search -after truth on the other, he roamed about, suffering -the greatest privations, sculking in the -mountains, and indebted to charity for his scanty -fare, till accident brought Mr. Otway to the spot -where he lay stretched upon the heath apparently -dead, and a ragged Bible clenched in his -hands. He was conveyed to Lisfarne, where he -found the asylum after which his soul panted. -When his strength was recruited, he was supplied -with such books as were calculated to meet -the sagacity of his doubts, and a short time made -him a fixed and conscientious believer in the superiority -of the Protestant faith over that in -which he had been educated. About this time -his father died, leaving him a little profit-rent of -fifteen pounds a year, arising out of a poor tenement -in Tralee. This is Ned's <i>all</i>, and as soon -as he became possessed of independence he resolved -to quit his benefactor and devote himself -to the good of his fellow creatures. No argument <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> -will tempt him to accept of a salary that -would better his condition. A few books, newspapers, -and a little snuff, are all that he will permit -any of us to add to his hermit's fare. You -will see his dwelling, and be surprized perhaps -by his remarks. The mountain on which he resides -belongs to an absentee nobleman, and Ned -lives there unmolested amongst almost inaccessible -crags. The singularity of his character, its natural -force, and the genuine disinterestedness of -conduct which he manifests, combine to produce -unbounded influence on the minds of the people, -who, notwithstanding the charge of heresy -against him, seek his advice, and consider his -wisdom as quite oracular. Ned's life is passed -in doing good. He traverses hill and dale on -foot in quest of all whom he can succour by his -counsel or sooth by his kindness. His Bible -travels with him, and in spite of the avowed hatred -of the priests, and the heavy denunciations -of punishment which two or three of them have -fulminated against any one who shall listen to, or -harbour, poor Ned, he is a universal favourite, -and often let in at a back door when his hosts <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> -would not venture to receive him at the front of -their miserable hovels. He reads the scriptures -incessantly, expounding and applying them to -the individual necessities of his needy neighbours. -He attends the fairs, and prevents many -a quarrel. His talents as an arbitrator are in -such request that he keeps several paltry cases -of contention from the petty sessions, and is even -consulted as an almanack, for the signs of bad -or good weather."</p> - -<p>With this outline of Ned's character and -history we approached his extra-ordinary <i>tabernacle</i>, -which had no appearance whatsoever -of human dwelling, till we reached it close -enough to see a little wreath of blue smoke -curling up from an orifice in the rock, and -were assailed by the sharp and angry bark of -a terrier, who lay sunning himself, with a cat -lying close by him on a tuft of dried heath. A -few great stones piled one upon the other, at -each side of a natural aperture in the craggy -face of the mountain, seemed to indicate the -hand of man in bringing them together, and -likewise to afford shelter to the entrance. A <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> -stout wooden door opening inwards appeared -the only means of ingress to admit even the -light of heaven, for windows I saw none.</p> - -<p>A few goats were roused from their <i>meditations</i> -by our arrival, and I had just pronounced -the name of Robinson Crusoe to my companions, -when, at the end of our scramble, -which had occupied three hours in its performance, -Ned himself started from his <i>lair</i>, -and stood before us clad in a strong comfortable -loose coat of a greyish frize, manufactured -in this country by the poor people. -He had shoes and stockings of coarse but -warm materials; and moreover, a hat, which, -though it had seen better days, defended his -head from the rude blast of this desolate wilderness, -and was fastened to a button-hole by -an old red worsted garter. Such was his joy -at sight of Frederick, that some minutes elapsed -before he seemed sensible that his friend had -any companions. "Oh, sir," said he, "the -news came to me just as I was lying down -last night; Tom Collins sent off little Maurice -his son to Tim Scannel, who put his brother <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> -across the bay in the fishing-boat; and he ran -every step o'the way over the hills till he -brought me <i>the account</i>."</p> - -<p>To have asked <i>what</i> account would have -been a direct insult to all Ned's best feelings, -and so Frederick thought, for he replied, -"Well, though I am grateful to poor Collins, -and also to Scannel, I am very sorry that -they have been beforehand with me; I thought -to have had the pleasure of telling you myself." -"Never mind," answered Ned, "they, poor -fellows, have not so many pleasures as you have, -don't <i>begrudge</i> them <i>that</i>, for they had a sore -<i>trot</i> of it bare legged over the stones to bring -me the news; and by the same token I had -nothing but two or three potatoes that were -cold in the dish after my supper to give Jack -after his long tramp over the mountain, and -he was afraid of being late for work in the -morning, so would not wait till I could get -him a drop of milk."</p> - -<p>Here was a journey of at least eight miles, by -the shortest route, across the bay, performed at -the end of hard day's work without the refreshment <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> -of food or sleep, and without the expectation -of a single sixpence to reward the toil! -La Bruyere, Rochefaucauld, and all the host of -the Machiavelian school to boot, could hardly -<i>concoct</i> a bad motive out of the given materials, -with all the maceration and trituration which -they could put this action through in their -moral crucible, which can contrive to disfigure -so much of human nature. The <i>worst</i> incentive -to such a deed which ingenuity could extract -from its analysis, might perhaps be discovered -in that love of stimulus common to all -lively people, and of which the Irish are peculiarly -susceptible: they love to surprise, and -be surprised; but I feel certain that Tom Collins -would have performed the part of <i>Speaking Trumpet</i> -to "Ned of the Hill," without the -aid of this excitement. I am becoming enthusiastic -about these Hibernians: but to return -to our mountain sage. He received us with -native courtesy: his small deal table was quickly -spread with the sandwiches which we had -brought, to which Ned added a pot of fine -smoking potatoes, and a red-herring or two <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> -which he took from a stick on which they -were hanging in the chimney. Brandy and -water (the latter from a stream clear as chrystal -that babbled by his door) finished our repast; -and, whether from the effect of novelty, my -long ride, the purity of the mountain air, or -all united, I cannot tell, but I never remember -to have thought the best dinner in London -half so good as this upon the top of an almost -trackless waste, from which we could see nothing -but a boundless expanse of ocean lying to the -west. When we had finished our luncheon, -or whatever you please to call it, Ned invited -us to come and sit by the stream in which he -said that we should find the finest water-cresses -that ever were seen; and "Gentlemen," said -he, "I will get you an oaten cake, and new -laid eggs, and plenty of milk, before you quit -me."</p> - -<p>In the first part of his invitation we acquiesced, -but told him that my aunt would be -uneasy if we were not at home early, and -would wait dinner. "Go, then," said Ned, -"and my blessing go with you; for I would <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> -not have her suffer the smallest fretting or -vexation for all the pleasure of your company -during a whole week. She is a good mother, -and a good Christian; and deserves all the -love and duty that you can shew her."</p> - -<p>We then walked with poor Ned, and I begged -of Frederick to draw him out in conversation, -that I might hear some of his opinions. When -we were about a quarter of a mile from his <i>fortress</i>, -Ned invited us to sit down in a sunny -nook, formed by the rock, where the stream -widened into a large surface, and here we -found the cresses with which our host had -promised to crown our simple repast. "I -often," said he, "bring a handful of potatoes -here, with a grain of salt, and gather a few of -these to make out my dinner. It is a fine -thing, sir, to think how easily a man may live, -and that too upon food better for him than a -lord mayor's banquet."</p> - -<p>"You are very happy, Ned, I should think," -said Bentley, who looked at him with the most -profound admiration.—"No one is happy," -answered the hermit; "but I believe that I <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> -am as much so as anybody, for I am contented -with the lot in which Providence has -placed me, and would not desire to exchange -it. Man is a poor creature, his life is but a -vapour, and the less that he is in the way of -temptation the better is it for him in time and -in eternity."</p> - -<p>"Ned," said Frederick, "you have leisure -for meditation, and wish that you would tell -me what you think of public affairs at present?"</p> - -<p>"Why, sir, I should be considered a bad -judge of what the public are about, I who -live in the desert; but as every man has his -own way of thinking, I have mine."</p> - -<p>"This is," said I, "a time of great <i>stir</i>, and -a great deal is <i>doing</i> that ought to tell either -one way or the other for much good or evil."</p> - -<p>"Ned smiled, and answered, "Sir, <i>you</i> -might set up for an oracle, for you are <i>sure</i> -to be right, as your prophecy will answer -either way: and that is the method that a -great many take to get <i>over</i> a knotty point, -when they do not know how to get <i>through</i> -it. No offence, sir, I hope."</p> - -<p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span></p> - -<p>I really felt a little disconcerted, and my companions -laughed; but I begged Ned to explain -what he thought himself of king's ministers, men, -and nations.</p> - -<p>"Why, sir, indeed we all flatter ourselves, -even such a poor humble being as I -am, that we can see all the working of the -puppets, little and big, but people are often -mistaken who have better means of coming at -the truth than I have: all the way, sir, that I -have to know what is doing in the world is by -the newspapers, which my young master there -(looking at Frederick) kindly brings me, and -my notion is, from spelling and putting together, -that though I may never live to see the -day when such a matter will come to pass, a -revolution is hanging over these countries -as sure as you are sitting there opposite to -me."</p> - -<p>"That would be a strange event, Ned," -said I, "as the consequences of those changes to -which I alluded, I meant the change from -darkness to light, from ignorance to knowledge."</p> - -<p>"Sir, I mean the same thing, though I do <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> -not give such good names to what I think -undeserving of them."</p> - -<p>"Why, Ned," "said Bentley, "I know a -place within three miles of this spot where you -go three or four times a-week to teach: how -does your conduct consist with what you have -said?"—"It fits like a pea in the pod, sir," -replied Ned; "I go to give what instruction I -can to a few poor things who are longing to -know God through His word; and as some are -too young, and others too weak to climb this -rugged height, I go to the foot of the mountain -to meet them; and don't you think that I -would teach every man, woman, and child, if -I could make them learn the road to heaven?" -I told him that Nature herself seemed to point -a finger to the course of education in Ireland, -for that such surprising faculties as I found -in the poor sons and daughters of Erin could -never have been designed by their Creator to -lie dormant. "Young man, we know," replied -Ned, "nothing of God's designs, and your -reason for teaching right hand and left, is -about as just as if you were to burn a hay-rick <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> -in your neighbour's farm, and when you were -asked why you did such mischief, you were -to answer, that a heap of combustibles was lying -convenient, and that as combustibles were by -nature made to be burned, you thought proper -to set them on fire. But, sir, my notion is, -that the gentry are, as fast as they can, changing -sides with the mob of the country, for they -are winding off at the upper end of the spindle as -much as they are winding on at the bottom, -and so it will be only one thing in the place -of another after all. Education seems to be -declining amongst the <i>heads</i> of the community, -as much as it is flourishing amongst the <i>tails</i>, -and, before long, it will be found that the tails -will take the post where the heads are now."</p> - -<p>"Upon what grounds do you prognosticate -this up-side-down, this new order, or disorder, -of things?" said Bentley.—"Why, sir, upon -two grounds: first, upon the ground of my natural -reason, which tells me that it cannot be -otherwise; and, secondly, upon the ground of -the newspapers, which shew me that the matter -is already coming to pass under our own <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> -eyes. Without any help to my own thoughts, -I should be a fool outright if I did not know -that education is bringing out all the faculties -that were rolled up like those daisies there, before -you, in their winter-quarters, till the sun -warmed the mountain, and untied the cords that -bound every button of them tight and hard in -their green cases. Now, sir, God is no respecter -of persons: His providence has given understanding -to the poor as well as to the rich, -which only wants what it is now receiving to -bring it into full bloom, and if the rich, who -are the smaller number, neglect the instruction -which the poor, who are the greater -number, are eagerly devouring, you will find -how it will be by-and-by: the lean kine will -swallow up the fat; and when men find out -that their hungry wits, sharpened by want, -have gained the power belonging to knowledge, -they will use it, and not rest contentedly -upon a wild heath like this, without asking -themselves the question, "Why should not we -take those places that are held by men who -do not know how to fill them, and benefit ourselves <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> -and the country by shoving out a set of -pampered geese, and coming down upon their -snug nests with all the force, as I may say, of -those eagles yonder?' Sir, when things are -ripe for this question, the end is at hand."</p> - -<p>"But, my good Ned, why suppose this neglect -in the higher classes? What should lead -you to conclude that, though the blessings of -light and knowledge are spreading over the -mass of mankind, the upper ranks are not holding -their own, and cultivating as before, the benefits, -which, with increased liberality, they are -now determined to share?"</p> - -<p>"Why, sir, I know very well that 'as the -twig is bent the tree's inclined,' and if I look to -your great schools, and your colleges, what do I -see but an undisciplined rabble, doing what -they please, and the masters, who ought to control -youthful vice and folly, become like so -many ciphers. At one of your great seminaries -I see murder committed in a boxing-match, -and the whole affair hushed up, as if no harm -were done. At another of your great schools, -the man to whose care the morals of your <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> -English youth are intrusted, runs away without -saying a word to any one, leaving a debt of -£50,000 behind him.</p> - -<p>"Did I not hear young Master Fitzallan tell -his father the other day that after being at a -third of your great English establishments he -had never spoken but twice to the head Master -of it? Don't I read of Oxford and Cambridge -time after time expelling the young lords and -high gentlemen, for every sort of misconduct -and disorder? What do <i>they</i> learn at the University, -but to gamble away their money, and -drink French wines? Sir, my notion is, that the -times are out of joint. Children don't respect -their parents and rulers. Parents and rulers -suffer children to get the upper hand, and think -themselves before their time, and without taking -the <i>trouble</i> to gain wisdom. The wholesome -restraint of the old school is out of fashion; bit -and bridle are taken off, and all the world scamper -in the way they like best; while, to crown -all the folly, the grandees are whetting knives -to cut their own throats.</p> - -<p>"Suppose now, sir, that there was in all England, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> -or any other country, but one single regiment -of men who had arms and ammunition; -and that it was the business of this single regiment -to protect the king, and stand sentry over -your banks, and prevent all commotions in your -capital. If neither gun nor pistol, a dust of -powder, nor a grain of shot could get into any -other hands, would not that regiment, of only -perhaps a thousand strong, be able to keep -down a multitude that we could hardly reckon? -but if the tower is opened, and a hundred thousand -stand of arms taken out, and given to the -people with plenty of balls and cartridges, and -they are drilled from morning till night, learning -all the new modes of squaring and filing off, -the new <i>this</i> and the new <i>that</i>, while the old -regiment does nothing at all, but stand as if it -was cut of paste-board, at the palace gates, and -the gates of your city; where will the rulers be -then? Why, to be sure, in the young and vigorous -recruits, who only wanted what you have -put into their hands to knock your train-bands -upon their faces on the ground, like the poppy -heads that some ancient warrior cut down for a <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> -sign to let the enemy know what he intended to -do."</p> - -<p>"But Ned have we not some long heads in -Parliament that will keep watch over our interests?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir, you have a few <i>long</i>, and a great -many <i>short</i> ones. Lord Liverpool is an honest -man and a sensible man. Mr. Peel is a man -that I believe would not tell a lie to make himself -a duke; and the greatest fault I see in him, -is that he is so fond of sporting, and so afraid -that any of poor Dick Martin's feeling for the -suffering dumb creation, should interfere with -his diversion, that he stifles the voice of humanity -within his breast; but it will not be so always, -I hope, for the best courage is ever to be -found in a tender heart. The lion and the -lamb, sir, make a fine mixture in a man's character."</p> - -<p>"Then you think cruelty to animals a sin, -Ned?"</p> - -<p>"Think it a sin!" replied Ned, with an expression -of countenance that would had have -brought thunders of applause at Drury-lane; <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> -"Yes, sir, it is a crying sin, and one of the very -worst signs of our time. It is a foul blot upon -our scutcheon. When I was a younker, the gentlemen -did not set their poor neighbours such -examples as they do now, and we see the fruits. -What right has a man, who is returning home -from a bull-bait himself, though he rides a fine -horse, and has ten thousand a year, to talk to an -ignorant savage that he sees on the high road -for goading a jaded bullock to market, or belabouring -an overloaded ass up the hill? or -what right has any man who encourages the -wicked amusement of prize fighting, which -teaches people to become brutes, and mangle -each other in cold blood, to abuse others for -doing the same in hot blood, when they meet -at a fair, and meet too as enemies who think -that they are <i>bound</i> to revenge some real or -imagined wrong? No, no, sir, preachers must -be <i>doers</i>, or they will only be laughed at."</p> - -<p>"Whom else do you think well of in our -great National Assembly, Ned?" asked Bentley.</p> - -<p>"Sir, I like Mr. Robinson. He knows his <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> -business. He found things in a bad condition, -and it is more troublesome to mend than to -make. He is going the right way to work, and -he is not frightened by opposition. Mr. Huskisson -too, sir, is a sensible man, and knows -what he is about."</p> - -<p>"What say you, Ned, to Mr. Canning?"</p> - -<p>"Why, sir, I think that at all events he can -<i>talk</i> well, and I love him better for one thing -that he said the other day, than if he had given -me a hundred pounds in hand. Do you remember, -sir, when he defied the house to shew him any -act of liberality, any treaty upon a broad generous -foundation, that was not proposed by the -Tories. That was nuts and apples, to my -heart, for it was <i>truth</i>, and very well they all -knew it, for not a man dared to contradict him; -even Mr. Hume, who contradicts every thing -and every body, let <i>him</i> alone when he threw -that challenge in their teeth."</p> - -<p>"You do not then like Mr. Hume, Ned.?"</p> - -<p>"I should like him better, sir, if he took the -trouble of being better informed. He, sir, is -the watch dog in the orchard, but he barks so <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> -often when no harm is at hand, or when he mistakes -a crow for a band of robbers, that when -the thieves come in earnest, people do not mind -him, and the uproar that he makes then, passes -by unheeded, which is a pity. However, sir, -he does some good, though not so much as he -might do, and the fear of <i>giving tongue</i> keeps -many a pilferrer out of the apple trees."</p> - -<p>"Well, Ned, will it not be a fine thing for -Ireland, if we live to see the day when emancipation -is proclaimed, and all animosity, discontent, -and rebellion, are laid in the dust?"</p> - -<p>Ned laughed heartily. "Wait a while," said -he, "and if we live to see that day I am a -pickled herring. No, sir, 'tis not because I am -no longer a <i>Roman</i> myself that I say it, but the -never a bit of good would emancipation do in -this country. The <i>name</i> of it indeed, would -make the people light fires, and drink a double -dose of whiskey, when they heard of it; and -they would shout, and those that have hats -would throw them up into the air. You would -have more noise, and drunkenness, and bloodshed, -and battery for a week or so, and when <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> -that was over, and not a rap was to be found in -their pockets, or a tatter left on their backs, they -would begin to look about them, and ask one -another, what they had got? Whether the potato-garden -was lowered in its rent, or leather -in its price? Whether wages were raised or -the necessaries of life cheaper than they were -before; and when they discovered that all the -difference in their condition was, that Daniel -O'Connell and his partner Shiel, might stun -the House of Commons in London, with their -blustering speeches as they do now the Catholic -Association in Dublin; the people would find -that they had gained nothing but broken heads."</p> - -<p>"But though it were only a shadow, a mere -name," said I, "if the people's hearts are set -upon obtaining it, will they not be happier and -more tranquil, if they succeed in the object of -their wishes?"</p> - -<p>"Why, sir, as to <i>wishes</i>, you may set an ignorant -multitude wishing for anything you please. -You might make them wish, like an infant, -for the moon, though they know no more about -it, than that it looks like a fine big Gloucester <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> -cheese; but if the moon dropped down to them, -and they discovered that they could not neither -eat, drink, nor wear it; that it would neither -relieve them from tithe, nor cess, pay their rent, -nor manure the ground; nor, in fact do anything -but set a few learned men in the college talking -about the length and the breadth of it; I would -not go security for their being satisfied with -ther bargain. Sir, when people are set on wishing, -without knowing what they are wishing for, -it is well for them if it ends as well as the fable, -in a yard of good black pudding."</p> - -<p>We were excessively amused by Ned's dry -sarcastic manner. Bentley continued: "I -think, however," said he, "that let Parliament -decide as it may, the bonds of affection between -landlord and tenant will be drawn closer by the -discussions that have taken place. The poor will -love the rich better from finding the sympathy -so general in their suffering, whether the wrongs -of which they complain be real or imaginary."</p> - -<p>"Not at all, sir," answered Ned, with energy, -"the people are poor and wretched; they have -many wants and many grievances to complain <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> -of, but <i>those</i>, which their landlords might relieve -or redress are never thought about, unless now -and then by such a blessed man as Lord H. or -Mr. Otway. <i>They</i> make their tenants happy, -they treat them like Christians, and among <i>their</i> -poor people you hear no cant about emancipation, -they have enough to eat and drink, they -are encouraged in their industry, protected in -their rights, they enjoy all the freedom that -they require, and as much as is good for them. -But, sir, the <i>talking</i> landlords spend their breath -and spare their purses; and the people, who are -not such fools now-a-days as to be caught in -springes, know the difference between saying and -doing; they understand the <i>decoy ducks</i> much -better than you seem to suppose. I know a -great man, not a hundred miles off, who is -building a house as fine as Solomon's temple, -and he makes long speeches, and shakes hands -with every ragamuffin who can give him a vote; -but he is not a whit the better loved for all that, -and why should he? He is a hard landlord, -and they say that he makes his poor tenants -pull down their stone walls, and raise mud cabins <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> -for themselves, that they may bring the -materials of their former habitations to help in -constructing his palace Ah, sir, words cost nothing, -and a poor man would depend more upon -the kindness that assisted him with a sack of -oatmeal, or a warm blanket, than upon all the -talk, empty and flourishing, that takes up the -newspapers, and gives the county gentlemen -the pleasure of seeing themselves in print. -When the people had not so much experience -as they have at present, it was easier to deceive -them; but you can hardly now 'find an old -weazel (as we say) asleep on his perch;' and -the <i>true</i> characters of the landholders are very -well known."</p> - -<p>Then said I: "Ned, if you have many such -landlords, it is the less to be lamented that they -are so fond of going abroad. The absence of -such men is as good as their presence."</p> - -<p>"No, sir, bad as they are, they could not -<i>help</i> being of some use if they stayed at home, and -spent their money in their own country. Never -believe any one who tells you that the absentees -are not one of poor Ireland's greatest curses."</p> - -<p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Ned," said I, "while I listen to you, and -hear so many sensible remarks from your lips, -I cannot help thinking what a fine thing is universal -education, and how great a change <i>must</i> -be effected by learning which will enable the -mass of any nation to reason with the force -which you can bring to meet every subject that -we have discussed to day."</p> - -<p>"Sir, I thank you," answered Ned, "for the -compliment, but I cannot return it without telling -a lie. <i>Your</i> reasoning, sir, is not of the -best, if you will consider the matter again, when -you would say, all as one, as that books make -brains. Why should the knowledge of reading -and writing, and casting sums in arithmetic -make wisdom amongst the poor, any more than -amongst the rich; and you have plenty of -dunces, sir, in the higher walks of life, who cannot -argue a bit the better for any thing that they -ever got hold of in school, or at college. But -even if learning gave understanding, which it -does <i>not</i>, for that is God's gift, still, sir, it might -be, with all its worth, not fit for <i>us</i> in our present -condition. If you gave me a barrel of the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> -best seed corn that your rich country ever grew, -I could not say but that it was a good gift, and -the grain fine grain; but if I threw it on the surface -of that barren rock yonder there, what return -would it make? Wouldn't it only bring -the mag-pies in flocks about me, to eat not only -that, but what little I had before? First, fence -in a bit of ground; then, burn it, and dig it, -and clear it; after that, you may sow your -grain, and it will come up and yield increase. In -like manner, sir, if you gentry would make your -tenants more comfortable, give them a little property -in their labours, encourage them to decent -habits, reward the sober and peaceable, punish -the bad, live amongst them, and employ them, -you would soon find your soil prepared for sowing -a crop which at present is thrown to waste, -or only devoured by birds of prey."</p> - -<p>I could have staid till midnight with poor -Ned, and Bentley seemed rivetted in attention -to his acute observations and sound common -sense; but Frederick looked at his watch, and -gave the signal "to horse."</p> - -<p>As we were moving towards the place where <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> -our palfreys were in waiting, I said to Burke, -"tell me how is it that the mass of the people in -Ireland speak so much purer English than we -do, though it is <i>our</i> native tongue, and with you -<i>not</i> so?"</p> - -<p>"That is the very reason of it, sir, I suppose," -replied this extra-ordinary man. "You speak -English amongst your poor, as we speak Irish, -by ear, and so we speak it badly enough, and -differently in different places; but <i>our English</i> -we learn out of books, because it is <i>not</i> our natural -language, and so perhaps we may speak it -nearer to the manner in which it is written than -you do at your side of the water."</p> - -<p>With intelligence thus superior to his humble -lot, did this <i>desert</i> "Hampden" (for "<i>village</i>" -would not suit with his desolate dwelling) discourse -with us till we were mounted. Frederick -made him promise to come to Glenalta, -where he told him that a present of books -awaited his arrival: and we promised to visit -him again on our return from Killarney. With -affectionate and mutual adieus, we parted, and -left the wide blank of a deathlike solitude and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> -silence, to contrast with the merry din of our -voices and the cheerful shew of life which had -been produced by the group of men, dogs, and -horses, on the gloomy heath.</p> - -<p>I shall never forget Ned of the Hill while I -live, and though his <i>brogue</i> is the <i>ne plus ultra</i> -of possible discord to a musical ear, I would rather -listen to him than to <i>almost</i> any <i>West-Endian</i> -of my acquaintance. Bentley is <i>beside -himself</i> with admiration of Ned, and I believe -would like nothing better than a cave next door -to our mountain sage, where some future bookmaker, -travelling this way, might set down the -neighbours as a settlement of the Troglodites, -who, by some wonderful chance, had been cast on -shore upon the coast of Kerry. I am not yet -sure how to classify Bentley. He is very worthy -of a place in my Irish Pantheon, but I have not -a niche ready for him, and as I hardly think that -I shall be able to unravel his character without -help, I will ask Mr. Otway about him, some -day or other, if I cannot satisfy myself respecting -certain incongruities which I perceive in his -manner.</p> - -<p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span></p> - -<p>As we neared Glenalta, Frederick observed -several traces of carriage wheels on the road, -and, on examining them more nearly, prophecied -that we should find company on reaching -home.</p> - -<p>"Not at this hour, surely," said Bentley. -"Mr. Otway would not drive to Glenalta when -he is able to ride or walk thither; and my uncle -being an absentee at present, <i>who</i> is there -that could venture to pay a visit at five o'clock -with any hope of being at their more distant -homes in reasonable time for dinner?"</p> - -<p>"Depend upon it," answered Frederick, -"that whoever came to Glenalta this day, is -there still. Like Cacus' den, it exhibits no returning -footsteps. All the marks of the horses' -feet are in the same direction." See what it is -to live in this out of the way sort of place!</p> - -<p>The speculation of who could have come in -our absence kept our minds for the last mile in -the most animating state of inquiry and suspense. -We rode up directly to the stable-yard, on entering -which, a nice calêche and smart dennett -were drawn up in order. The stable-boy could <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> -not tell more than that "<i>quality</i>" had come, and -old Lawrence, whom we met, could only add, -that they were to stay, and were <i>English</i>, but -every body was in such a bustle that, he told us, -he could learn no more. On entering the house, -we found the rooms deserted, and Fanny, who -came radiant with excitement, skipping down -stairs to meet us, was the only living thing that -presented itself to our view. To our eager inquiries -she would only reply, that we must go -and dress, and that when we appeared in the -drawing-room that we should know who were -the guests. There was no use in expostulating, -Fanny was inexorable, and to our toilettes we -were sent. As soon as mine was completed, I -hurried down stairs, and Fanny again was the -first to me. She took me by the hand, and -throwing open the drawing-room door, I found -my aunt, Emily, and Charlotte all dressed, and -looking full of some mystery, respecting which -I was proceeding to ask questions, when two -figures bounced from behind the large Indian -screen, and who should stand confessed before -me, but Russell and Annesley. Astonishment <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> -was no adequate word to express what I felt at -sight of them. How to account for the vision, -how to express amazement, pleasure, at the unexpected -rencontre, I knew not. What a creature -of circumstance is man! Though I am -fond of both Russell and Annesley, and they are -the only people besides yourself, of whom I have -spoken as friends since I came here, and introduced -by character to my relations, yet a meeting -with either of them in the Regent's Park, in -Bond-street, at the Theatre, or the Opera, how -insipid! Nay, sometimes even a bore. Yet here -at Glenalta, county of Kerry, South of Ireland, -it was rapture to behold their faces, though neither -their personal identity nor my own can -have undergone any material alteration since we -met last at Cambridge. Is it that I, without -knowing it, have got a drop of Irish blood in my -veins, or that the features of my countrymen, -my schoolfellows, my College friends, operate -naturally in a strange place, like the <i>Ranz des -Vaches</i> on Swiss hearts in a foreign land? I -must leave you to develope the cause, I have -only to do with effects.</p> - -<p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span></p> - -<p>After the first tumult of surprise was over, I -gained in ten minutes the following outline respecting -the hows, whys, and whens of this sudden -incursion into the wilds of Kerry. From -the time when first Russell heard of my being -here, he began to devise a scheme for slipping -over in summer, but as his father wanted him to -join a party who were going to the Highlands, -he did not find it an easy matter to accomplish -his plan; having been told, however, by my -sisters, that I was <i>bound</i> to Killarney, he determined -on coming to Ireland; and, meeting Annesley, -offered him a seat in his dennett. The -project resolved on by these <i>wags</i> was, to keep -me in profound ignorance of their movements, -while they watched ours, and to meet us in some -romantic spot of our Lake scenery; but in pursuing -their route, they fell in with a travelling -carriage which had just <i>smashed</i> down in the -bog, and, having left all their English <i>sang froid</i> -behind them, they immediately jumped from -their own vehicle to make a proffer of every -assistance in their power to bestow. A lady, -her maid, and footman, were the party submerged <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> -by fate beneath the murky waves of -Acheron. Literally they were all struggling out -of a dyke full of water as black as if it flowed -direct from the forge of Vulcan. The knights -flew to the rescue with all the zeal of chivalric -adventure, and conveyed their fair charge to a -neighbouring cabin, where a blazing fire, for -which they were indebted to the same morass -that had treated them so uncourteously, repaired -the evil, and set them moralizing on bogs and -bees, which, together with the bane, provide an -antidote. They found the lady very agreeable, -and moreover they discovered that she was steering -for Glenalta, upon which they drew up their -<i>visors</i>, proclaimed their names, and told her that -a friend whom they were seeking was a guest -under that roof. This coincidence pleased the -lady, as savouring of a regular adventure, and -she at once invested herself with the responsibilities -of a godmother, and (one good turn deserving -another) prevailed on her deliverers to -step into her carriage, and resign theirs to the -charge of her servant, promising to introduce -them to the Douglas family. Well now, you <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> -naturally inquire who is the lady whose intimacy -at Glenalta warrants such a stretch of privilege? -She is a Mrs. Fitzroy, with whom my aunt became -well acquainted, during her long sojournment -in Devonshire, and whose society beguiled -her sorrows in the deep retirement of Linton. -Mrs. Fitzroy is a highly-gifted person, and a -most agreeable addition to our party; but to -proceed with my narrative, her visit was not a -surprise to my aunt, though a very great one to -the rest of the family.</p> - -<p>A letter came just about the time when Emily -and Frederick had finished their works in the -Glen, and the unlooked for pleasure which they -had prepared for their mother, in introducing -her to the rustic temple which they had with -filial fondness dedicated to her, suggested the -idea of concealing Mrs. Fitzroy's intentions, and -thus repaying the young people in <i>kind</i>, by a -pleasant necromancy. Nothing could be better -managed, and my aunt enjoyed, to use the language -of old Du Deffand, a <i>grand succès</i>. I -was put in possession of all this before Mrs. -Fitzroy made her appearance. Frederick, who -came next into the drawing-room, was now informed <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> -of all that had happened; and as to my -two English comrades, they were at home in a -quarter of an hour, a delightful reception for -them having been doubly secured by their <i>sponsors</i>. -Mrs. Fitzroy now completed our circle, -in which Mr. Otway and Bentley had previously -taken their posts, and a merrier group you never -saw.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Fitzroy deserves to be distinguished by -a separate portrait, and therefore I must prepare -my canvass, and endeavour to sketch her -likeness. She appears to be about forty; her -features are well defined; replete with intelligence, -and when lit up by a gay expression, singularly -playful and pleasing. Her faculties are -strong and clear, her understanding comprehensive, -and her mind apparently equal to any exercise -of its powers which she chooses to put into -action. She is evidently possessed too of considerable -sensibility, which makes her peculiarly alive to -whatever is interesting in the character of others. -She and my aunt do not in the least resemble -each other, but the difference between them is -not such as to impede the growth of a very warm <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> -friendship. The young people are excessively -fond of her, and her arrival at Glenalta is considered -quite a jubilee. Though an English-woman -by birth, and living almost continually -amongst people of her own country, all her sympathies -are Hibernian, and she has much of that -<i>raciness</i> in her own composition which she says -is so attractive a composition in the Irish. The -delight with which she goes into the cottages to -converse with the peasantry, is something very -amusing to witness. She says that, "Irish -thoughts are so <i>fresh</i>, and the expression of them -so eloquent," that she feels as if transported -amid a new order of beings. She seizes on every -idea, presented in whatever guise, with such intuitive -quickness, that she charms the poor -people in return, and Tom Collins paid her an -odd sort of compliment yesterday which brought -tears into her eyes: "Indeed, God bless your -honour, you're just as if you were bred and -born in the bog among ourselves." This is her -second visit to Ireland, though her first at Glenalta; -and she runs about in raptures collecting -traits of disposition which seem to have a native <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> -affinity with her own. I shall tell you more of -her in a future letter.</p> - -<p>We are to set out, a formidable <i>muster</i>, for -Killarney, at six o'clock to-morrow, and I shall -not seal this till the last moment, reserving my -next exclusively for a report of our expedition. -As I tell you every thing, I cannot conclude -without mentioning a letter which I have lately -received from my eldest sister, and which has -caused me much disquietude; she tells me that -my uncle the General is coming home from -India, which is fully confirmed by a letter direct -from himself to Mr. Otway, and it is my -mother's wish that I should be in England when -he arrives. What is still worse, there is an -evident anxiety expressed by Louisa, who, I -conclude, conveys the general feeling of the -family <i>conclave</i> in this case also, that I should -quit Glenalta directly. The rustication which I -am enduring will, she says, totally disqualify -me for polite society; my manners will become -boorish, my person <i>unsightly</i>, and, in short, it -is <i>voted</i>, that as it is supposed my health is perfectly -re-established, I shall quit my banishment, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> -and revisit the regions of civilization, -which it is apprehended I may forget, if my -recal be not speedy and imperative. Then certain -hints are thrown out respecting Adelaide, -and that ass Crayton, whose coronet, were it of -ducal form, and decorated with strawberry -leaves imported from Brobdignag, could never -hide the length of his ears. How short a time -has elapsed since these things which now perplex -would have given me joy? I should have been -thankful for a good excuse to bid adieu to Ireland -for ever; and I should have thought my -mother the first of human manoeuvrers, and -Adelaide the most fortunate girl in London to -have succeeded in <i>hooking</i> that first-rate blockhead, -who, it is likely, I am told, may be my -brother-in-law. Another subject of painful -reflection is added to these, and it is a relief to -my spirit to tell you <i>all</i> that oppresses it. Such -a change has taken place in my own mind, that -I see the character of others with new organs. -My personal identity almost seems doubtful to -myself, and I can hardly believe what is nevertheless <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> -true, that Louisa's letter, independently -of the intelligence that it communicates, has -shocked me in a manner difficult to be explained -within my <i>own</i> breast, and scarcely possible to -be expressed intelligibly to another. My sister's -language is lively; she speaks of people familiar -to me, of amusements in which a few months -ago I used constantly to participate; of fears -and hopes, in all of which I could have sympathized, -and of events which would have excited -my vanity and gratified my pride. Surely it is -something savouring of magic that can have -converted these things into their very opposites. -You have often said that I was not formed for -the society in which I was placed; that my character -would have taken another direction had -it not been <i>trained</i> by habit to a distorted deviation -from its natural bias. Perhaps you were -right; but, allowing that you were so, still I -cannot account for the metamorphosis. Apply -a ligature that shall bind the branch of a tree, -or a limb of the human body, in any particular -curve, and there it rests. The bark, the wood, -the pith of the one; the muscles, tendons, -arteries of the other, obey the rule of distortion, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> -and the removal of restraint effects no alteration; -the crooked will not become straight. -On the contrary, here I am a changeling in my -mother's house; I see all objects with new -powers of vision, and such as, I lament to add, -render me ill satisfied with those who stand in -the relations to me which I have now learned -to appreciate. With a mind just awakened to -affection, and a heart just opened to the genial -influence of domestic love and harmony, my -feelings, which this soft climate of Glenalta has -unfolded, are blighted by the very thought of -Selby. Yes, I sicken at the bare idea of return, -and a consciousness which I only felt before -upon <i>great</i> occasions, now represents the -whole mechanism of that artificial compact -sealed by fashion in the most intolerable view to -my imagination. I cannot call things by their -old names; the words no longer appear to suit -their purposes, and the new nomenclature, -which now seems most appropriate, disgusts me. -How can I apply the terms bold, indelicate, unfeeling, -unaffectionate, to a <i>sister</i>, and not turn -with horror from such sounds; or attribute the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> -base design of selling a child's happiness, carrying -a daughter to market, and disposing of -her to the best bidder, with all the cunning and -trickery of professed jockeyism—how <i>can</i> I -attach such devices to the character of a mother, -and not shudder as I write the word? Yet all -this is but an unexaggerated picture of those -relations, as I have hitherto known them; an -epitome of that world in which I have had my -being, and though a fugitive feeling, perhaps, -occasionally whispered disapprobation, and I -<i>have</i> now and then shrunk from certain violations -of modesty or integrity in the conduct of -those around me—such starts were but momentary. -I quickly rejoined the beaten track, and -pressed forward with the giddy throng. When -I look at my aunt Douglas, I feel how I could -worship such a parent. When I am with -Emily, Charlotte, and Fanny, I say to myself, -if I had such sisters how I could love them; -then comes the sting, I <i>have</i> a mother, I <i>have</i> -sisters, and my mind revolts from their society. -Poor Ned of the Hill told Bentley that "man <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> -is <i>never</i> happy." He was right, Glenalta would -be Paradise did not the unwelcome intrusion of -such reflections disturb its felicity.</p> - -<p>I was called away, or you might have had -more of my melancholy musings. We have -had a charming ride to-day, and seen some -<i>patches</i> of scenery so beautiful, that I can hardly -suppose any thing to surpass them at Killarney, -but like the fine beryls which were shewn to you -and me, that had been found in the Kremlin, -and looked as if they were set in a mass of -pewter, these favoured spots are surrounded -by such savage wildness as I can scarcely describe. -You could hardly imagine any part of -the dominions which own a British Monarch for -their Sovereign to present such desolation to -your view as met our eyes in this morning's excursion; -but now and then we lit upon an oasis -in the desert, the fertility and romantic loveliness -of which would teach the veriest wilderness -to smile. Annesley, who sketches admirably, -took some hints for his port folio, which will -astonish you some time or other. Emily and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> -Fanny were of our party, and are excellent -horsewomen. Our guests were delighted, and -we had another cheerful meeting at dinner, but -the evening was marked by a discovery which -has <i>knocked up</i> poor Russell's repose for <i>this</i> -night, I fancy, if not for a longer season. You -know his devotion to music, in which he excels, -and you are aware of his enthusiasm in collecting -national airs, amongst which he thinks none -so melodious as the old Irish strain. When the -harp and piano-forte were opened this evening, -we were listening to a <i>descant</i> of Russell's on -the favourite theme, when Frederick said, "I -<i>do</i> think Charlotte that you might now accompany -yourself. I saw you practising some days -ago, and never heard you touch the strings -more sweetly."</p> - -<p>"I am only trying to recover a little of what -I have lost," answered Charlotte, "but, if -mamma does not say no, I will do the best that -I can. My old Irish airs are in the dressing-room, -will you bring them here?"</p> - -<p>Till this moment I had never remarked that -Emily or Fanny had always accompanied, and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> -that Charlotte only joined in glees and duets, -which she sings with her brother and sister in -excellent style; but just before I came to Glenalta -she fell, as she was dismounting from her -horse, and hurt one arm so much, that it has -been ever since regaining its ordinary strength. -In any <i>other</i> family your ears would have been -persecuted from morning till night with the details -of such an accident. At Selby, I know -that Eau de Cologne, Arquebusade, and every -nostrum ever invented, would have been arrayed, -and there would have been an incessant -demand on the attentions of every mortal -throughout the house, but such is the difference -of education, that <i>self</i>, in all its branches, is -banished from Glenalta. I had nearly forgotten -that Charlotte was hurt, and as no one boasted -of her powers, I never heard a word of her -peculiar talent in music till in this unpremeditated -manner it was called forth by Russell's -dissertation on the character of Irish melody. -The book was brought, Emily saved her sister -the labour of tuning, and Charlotte, for the -first time, saluted our ears with such divine <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> -enchantment as quite baffles every attempt of -mine to convey a sense of it to your imagination. -Russell furnished a <i>study</i> to Mrs. Fitzroy, who -was watching the variety of his emotion with -the deepest interest. His account of Charlotte's -music, perhaps, may give you the best -idea of it that words can impart:—"it is not," -he says, "earthly harmony. No mortal finger -touches that harp; no human voice is uttered -in the song; that strain floats in mid air, and -the soft southern breeze has sighed through the -strings"—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poem"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">"'Twas the Genius of Erin that rose from her cave,</div> -<div class="line">And poured out her lament to the answering wave."</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>It is not in nature to conceive any expression -of sorrow more penetrating than that which -mourns in the wail of an ancient Irish ditty. -Charlotte has contrived to procure several airs -which are not in Moore's collection, and which -carry internal evidence of antiquity in the irregularity -of their <i>rhythm</i>, if I may apply such a -term to music. No sea bird's note was ever -more sweetly sad; and she has picked up translations <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> -from time to time of some poetical -fragments which she has adapted with great -taste, as well as judgment to the music, for -which she has often been indebted to the -peasants as they pursued their daily toil; not -that <i>they</i> sing agreeably in almost any instance, -I am told; the extreme barbarism which is induced -by such poverty as reigns in the South of -Ireland, is very unfavourable to the Muses; -yet they <i>will</i> linger amongst a people who possess -such uncommon tact in appreciating their -charms, notwithstanding the homely reception -with which they are obliged to be contented. -A death-song (<i>vulg. caöne</i> or <i>keen</i>), the words -of which, I believe, are published in a late work -on the Antiquities of this Kingdom, by Mr. -Croker, and which Charlotte has set to an old -<i>howl</i> that she heard a poor woman uttering -(for singing would be a misnomer) with nasal -twang, as she milked her cow, is the most heart-rending -melody that I ever heard; and a march -which she plays, to which the famous Brian -Boirombh led his troops forward at the battle of -Clontarf, is remarkable for a character of pathetic <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> -grandeur that I never found before in -martial music. Russell's feelings underwent -such excitement during the evening, that had -not his sex preserved him from the simile, we -should have compared him to a Sybil in the -contortions of forthcoming inspiration. I now -perfectly comprehend the pleasure which, I am -informed, some of our first-rate public performers -profess in exhibiting their powers to an -Irish audience. The Irish feel music in the -"heart of heart," and express what they feel -with peculiar energy. Our English guests are -<i>bitten</i> I promise you; I heard them both emphatically -declare their gratitude to Mrs. Fitzroy -for her introduction to this "charming -family," but I <i>must</i> have a nap before we sally -out upon Lake adventures, so fare thee well. -On my return you may expect a budget.</p> - -<p class="right"><span class="padding-right4">Vale, vale, yours ever,</span><br /> -<span class="smcap padding-right1">A. Howard.</span><br /> -</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - -<p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span></p> - -<h2>LETTER XV.</h2> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Miss Howard to A. Howard, Esq.</span></p> - - -<p> -Dear Arthur, -</p> - -<p>Your letter of the 10th to me, has produced -a horrible combustion, and I am ordered to -recal you immediately. Well or not well, you -must be off; and as fast as coaching and steaming -can bring you it will be prudent for you to -appear before your angry parent, who will vent -all her bile on us, if you do not come and relieve -Adelaide and me from her ill humour. -She accuses us of having persuaded her into -consenting to your Irish expedition, and protests, -at the pitch of her voice, that she would -greatly prefer seeing you dead at her feet, to -beholding you return a methodist, which she is -convinced you are already become. You have -no time to lose; but lest you should not consider -the reception which I am teaching you to <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> -anticipate from your <i>tender mother</i>, too attractive, -I have another reason to urge for your -speedy appearance, which will surely turn the -scale, if you are in any doubt how to act. I -gave you a hint in my last, which will prevent -your being surprised with the sequel. <i>La mere</i> -has played her game so well, that were it not -for the dreams of affrighted fancy, which represent -you with parted locks of greasy sable, -mounted on a tub, and haranguing the multitude -<i>al fresco</i>—in short, if she did not believe -you in the high road to become a field preacher, -unless you are one already, she would have -reason to sound the trumpet, and claim the -honours of a triumph. She gave a splendid ball -by way of <i>clincher</i>, for which her cards where -out when I wrote last to you. The bait took -<i>à merveille</i>. Crayton and Ady waltzed together, -after which, mamma sailed round the rooms, -and whispered to three or four friends (good -telegraphs), that she wished Lord C. was not -quite so <i>particular</i> in his attentions. "<i>Le bruit -court</i>," so rapidly said <i>la bonne mere</i>, "that <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> -things are <i>settled</i> by the world before the parties -themselves have the slightest idea of being serious." -Of course you know the <i>eyes of Europe</i> -were directed to the pair. The buz went round, -and on the following day, old Lady Bilton bethought -her of a <i>cheap</i> return, for at least half -a dozen parties, and sent off a note to the following -effect, which mamma received before six -o'clock, at which hour Crayton made his morning -call to ask how we did. Old Bilton's <i>billet</i> -was to this effect:—</p> - -<p>"My dear Mrs. Howard,—As no one can -possibly take precedence of me in the most lively -interest for all that concerns you, I have made -it a point to deny myself this morning to some -particular friends, that I may write, to tell you -of the rumours which are afloat. To be <i>explicit</i>, -Lord Crayton and Adelaide Howard occupy -the public mind, and the <i>on dit</i> of this morning -is, that the settlements are <i>en train</i>. Do say, -by a line, whether I may congratulate you. To -a girl of Adelaide's expectations, the report cannot -be of any disagreeable consequence if unfounded; <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> -but should it be true, I shall long to -hear particulars.</p> - -<p class="right"><span class="padding-right4">Yours very truly,</span><br /> -<span class="smcap padding-right2">S. Bilton."</span><br /> -</p> - -<p>No sooner was Crayton announced, than he -was caught and <i>closeted</i> by <i>la madre</i>, who imparted -Lady Bilton's intelligence with becoming -gravity, and sundry comments on the pain to -<i>delicate feelings</i>, produced by talking people; -the necessity of being more circumspect, her -own disinterested sentiments, desire for her -daughter's happiness, dread of Adelaide's affections -being engaged; all which matter, judiciously -interlarded with my uncle's great riches, -speedy return, devoted attachment to his brother's -children, and her own fears that his generosity -would be so profuse as to bring all the -fortune-hunting tribe to torment us, operated so -powerfully on my Lord, added to the surprise of -his <i>capture</i> on entering the house, that the -whole matter was arranged, Ady was sent for, -mamma vanished, the proposal was made, -and accepted, the horrid business-people are -put in motion, and you must come over, not <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> -only to take your seat amongst the musty parchments, -but likewise to go through the silly form -of giving your sister away. This latter ceremony -is much more appropriate to the old Indian -Plutus; but there are two reasons against -waiting his arrival. One is, that we are not -sure but he may leave us in the lurch; and, -secondly, he may possibly be such an outlandish -sort of animal, that we shall find it advisable to -keep him in the shade. Now, it <i>may be</i>, that if -you proclaim all that I am telling you, to the -tiresome <i>primitives</i>, whose notions you seem to -adopt with a degree of zeal, which I can assure -you gains no credit <i>here</i>, I dare say that the -eyes of your pious relatives will turn as naturally -to the <i>new</i>, as the sun-flower does to the -<i>old</i> light, and the blue, green, grey, or hazel, -which may distinguish the organs of your serious -aunt and cousins from each other, will be -lost in the general <i>field argent</i>, as their pupils -become heaven-directed, and the white of their -eyes alone remain visible, like the sculptured -orbs of so many statues. You will then hear a -volley of methodistic nonsence,—of "fraud," <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> -"take in," "future unhappiness," and such -like mawkish stuff, which I protest makes me -feel, while I am writing, as if I had swallowed a -score of ipecacuanha lozenges; <i>therefore</i> it will -be wiser of you to say nothing of what I have -mentioned. It will be quite enough to tell Mrs. -Douglas and her gawky lasses, that affairs of -importance demand your presence in England, -and that, having been cured of your cough, the -object of your visit to them is accomplished. -We are the more anxious that you should act -promptly, because Russell, and that blockhead -Annesley, are gone to see Killarney, the Giant's -Causeway, and whatever other odds and ends, -in the way of <i>lionizing</i> that savage island may -offer. Now, if they <i>poke</i> you out from the hole -in which you are buried, or stumble upon you -in a bog, the ass, alias Annesley, will begin to -bray; he will tell the antediluvians of Glenalta -that Crayton is not exactly such a puritan as he -is himself; that he has gambled away money -enough to build four-and-twenty chapels all in -a row. Every irregularity of his life will be -dragged into notice, and as your <i>good</i> people <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> -are stubborn as mules in performing what they -call their "<i>duty</i>," we shall have postage to pay -for some of your aunt's homilies, and not only -that, but folks who know nothing of the world, -act so entirely without line or compass, that I -should not be surprised if she took up her pen, -and committed the monstrous absurdity of addressing -a <i>tract</i> to Crayton himself.</p> - -<p>To prevent such an absurdity must be our -care, and silence is the only plan to pursue with -your Kerry relations. If possible, your mother -will write a few lines herself, but lest she should -be hindered from doing so, I may as well mention -that Lady Araminta Sandes strongly recommends -a practice of which she has lately set -the example, insisting on the insertion of a -clause in every modern marriage settlement, to -secure a proper provision for the lady, in case of -a <i>separation</i>. I think the council <i>so</i> good, that -whenever it comes to <i>my</i> turn, I am resolved to -stipulate for at least a thousand a year.</p> - -<p>The Duchess of Naresbury has fitted up her -<i>pallazo</i> in the best style, and intends to be very -splendid; but she will never <i>be one of us</i>, with <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> -all her endeavours. She is to be "at home" -on the twenty-first of next month, and Crayton -asked her permission to take young Fancourt, -who is just come back from his travels, along -with him to her house. The Duchess forgot -who he was, and when <i>Cray.</i> had <i>ticketed</i> him -like a geranium in the conservatory, "honorable -Augustus, second son to Lord Alison, a -very fine young man, and my particular friend," -her Grace drew herself up with as much dignity -as if she was going to pronounce sentence, and -answered, "Lord Crayton, I make it a point -not to give any encouragement to younger brothers, -'tis a dangerous folly, of which sooner or -later one has to repent. I am sorry for it, but -I cannot make exceptions. I <i>cannot</i> receive Mr. -Augustus Fancourt." Now, the rule is certainly -<i>sound</i>, though this was rather an extreme case; -but you know that our charming Byron says, -somewhere or other,—I forget the lines,</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poem"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent8">——And pious mothers</div> -<div class="line">Inquired had they fortunes, and if they had brothers.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>Well, Crayton was <i>piqued</i>, and as he would -have felt it quite a personal thing had he not <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> -succeeded in taking Fancourt to Naresburg-House, -he essayed again, and with great presence -of mind calmly replied, "I beg a thousand pardons, -for my presumption, but I thought your -Grace liked talents, and Fancourt is an acquisition -any where. He is just come from Greece, -and his <i>book</i> comes out in six weeks." "Oh! -that is <i>toute autre chose</i>," said the Duchess; "I -like clever people excessively. You know I -patronize authors, and have a host of <i>protegés</i> -continually about me. Lord Crayton, this is -quite another view of the matter. Pray bring -Mr. Fancourt; I shall be glad to see him, and -wish that he was <i>out</i>. He should have brought -his materials all ready for the press. He will -be late for the season in town. Tell him so -from me, and bid him print without delay. I -will speak of his book. I will announce it to -night at the Duchess of L—'s."</p> - -<p>So ended the dialogue, and Cray. came off -with flying colours. I was interrupted here by -his entrance. Poor fellow! he looked pensive -I thought; but I fancy he had a double dose of -Burgundy at Lord Morley's yesterday, and <i>who</i> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> -does not <i>wince</i> at sight of the sable squadron in -perspective, of those terrible law folks with -their long bills, and yellow faces? It was not a -week ago since Crayton was laughing heartily at -a monstrous sum which rich Burton of Norfolk -had to pay to his solicitors for some black letter -job. Amongst the items in account was, "To -anxiety for my client, March the tenth, two -pound fifteen." How very good! When the -affair was nearly at an end, old Burton thought -it would be a clever thing to spur Rosinante, -and accordingly ordered his coach and four to -stop, at the "special Attorney's," persuading -Mrs. Burton, that a <i>friendly call</i> on <i>market-day</i>, -carriage and liveries at the <i>door</i>, would diminish -the bill by a cool hundred at <i>least</i>. Mrs. B—— -waddled out of the coach in a full suit of green -with yellow ribbons, like a walking bank of daffodils, -and spoke most condescendingly to Mr. -Pim and Mrs. Pim, and the Miss Pims, and the -Master Pims, but notwithstanding, and nevertheless, -the last entry in the account when it -came in was, "To a long and tedious conversation -with Mr. and Mrs. Burton, thirteen and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> -fourpence." Crayton is so funny! He tells a -story when he is in spirits so well!</p> - -<p>Here comes <i>La Madre</i> with her letter, and so -<i>Adio</i>. Adelaide would send her love, but we -are to <i>suppose</i> that she has none to spare. <i>By -and by</i>, I dare say, that she will have plenty on -hand; but that is <i>selon les regles</i>. The only -danger is, that what goes <i>out</i> love, may come -<i>back</i> hatred. Well, Rochefaucauld says, that -"hatred is distempered love," so 'tis all the same -thing in the end. I am growing <i>prosy</i>, but do -you know that the foolish story I told you in my -former letter has made such a noise, that I am -provoked, and shall begin to turn <i>blue</i> in earnest -to vex the blocks. Old Pagoda is at hand, or I -assure you it is well if my "Ostracism" were -not to send <i>me</i> into banishment. It was rather -an unlucky hit, half the young men in town do -not understand it, and it is voted a <i>poser</i>. Crayton -tells me that money is lost and won upon it -daily in St. James's Street. When my uncle is fairly -come, and I have touched the rupees, and golden -maures, I will positively not keep my wits under -<i>hatches</i> any longer. After all, it is egregious<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> -folly to give opiates to one's brains because our -exquisites are unfurnished in the upper story. -I must, however, take the matter quietly, for -<i>under</i> a hundred thousand, it will not do to use -a word of more than two syllables in length, or -<i>any</i> dimensions <i>at all</i> in <i>height</i> or <i>depth</i>; but you -shall see what revenge I will have when, like the -princess in the fairy tale, my "thread-papers -are made of bank-notes, and my favorite spaniel -drinks out of a diamond cup." I will then ransack -Johnson's <i>folio</i>, and oblige every aspirant -to come to my levees with the pocket Lexicon -in his bosom. Remember what I have said—mum -is the word. Let us not have a commission -to try whether we are of sane, or insane mind, -nor yet be forced, like Rodolpho, to seek our -wits in the moon, for I promise you we should -not find a Pegasus to mount so high now-a-days. -<i>Encore, adieu.</i></p> - -<p class="right"><span class="padding-right9">Yours, ever,</span><br /> -<span class="smcap padding-right2">L. H.</span><br /> -</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - -<p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span></p> - -<h2>LETTER XVI.</h2> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Howard to Arthur Howard, Esq.</span></p> - -<p class="center">(<i>Inclosed in the preceding.</i>)</p> - -<p> -My dear Boy, -</p> - -<p>I am so full of business that I can only send -you a few lines. I rejoice to hear that you are -quite well, and that "Richard is himself again." -Come to me <i>directly</i>. Adelaide's approaching -marriage requires your immediate presence, and -as you are within a few weeks of your majority, -you will be able to enter into all my views for the -establishment of your sister. You know <i>what</i> a -mother I have been—how entirely devoted to -the interests of my children; and I hope, my -dear love, that I shall find you, on the present -momentous occasion, ready to give your best aid -in raising money for an immediate supply. You -will feel with me, the propriety of a suitable -outfit; and I am sure that it would be as painful <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> -to your mind as to my own, were our dear -girl to want any proper accompaniment of her -new dignity. The Granvilles too (Crayton's -sister, you know is Lady G.) are people of such -connection, that we must make an effort extra-ordinary, -and I do not think it will be possible -to get through the necessary expenses for less -than five thousand pounds for present use. I -want you also on Louisa's account; and, <i>entre -nous</i>, feel very uneasy at a silly flight of her's the -other evening. She was in high spirits at our -Thursday's <i>soirée</i>, and imprudently <i>let fly</i> a -scrap of history. As <i>really</i> very few young men -now read any thing but the Morning Post, and -the Novel of the day, it is not surprising that -Louisa's learning confounded the party. I was -much vexed, but it cannot be helped. When -<i>you</i> come, you may be of use, in assuring all your -acquaintance that she has not a particle of <i>blue</i> -in her whole composition, and that the long -word which has made such a sensation, was -picked up from Blackwood, or the New Quarterly; -that she never reads history, and knows -no more of the Greeks than of a plum-pudding. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> -Nothing alarms me more, than the apprehension -of her taking to literature in a fit of disgust. -You see how much we have for you to do. -Commend me to Mrs. Henry Douglas and her -family. They are very good people I am sure, -and I feel much obliged by their attentions to -you. It is a great comfort when folks are doomed -to live in retirement, to see them enjoy it; and -nothing can be wiser than your aunt's determination -to remain in her present abode; but I -need not, my dear Arthur, I am <i>convinced</i>, impress -upon your mind the absurdity of taking -up such notions as are highly commendable as -well as suitable to Ireland, and confined circumstances. -You are born in another <i>sphere</i> -altogether, and must leave your Kerry ways behind -you. Lady Cantaloupe and the Comtesse -de Soissons just come! I must see them. Dear -Arthur,</p> - -<p class="right"><span class="padding-right3">Your affectionate mother,</span><br /> -<span class="smcap padding-right1">Marianne Howard.</span></p> - -<p>P.S. I had a great deal to say of my dear -brother the General, but will postpone. <i>Au -revoir.</i></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - -<p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span></p> - -<h2>LETTER XVII.</h2> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Arthur Howard to Miss Howard.</span></p> - -<p> -Dearest Louisa, -</p> - -<p>On my return from Killarney, I find your -packet, and hasten to say to my mother and you, -that I shall obey your summons with as little -delay as possible, consistently with all that I owe -to the beloved friends whom I am about to leave. -So many conflicting thoughts press for utterance, -that I know not how or where to begin. -Louisa, you will find me a very different being -from the Arthur of your recollection; and I -fear that at first the change which has been -wrought in me will not please you. If you disliked -my friendship with Falkland, and less -powerful, yet still strong, regard for Annesley, -what will you think of a devotion which can -only end with life for my aunt Douglas, her -children, and her friend Mr. Otway?</p> - -<p>Yes, I own it to you. At Glenalta, in this <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> -despised and remote corner of Ireland, which -you and I have so often ignorantly ridiculed, I -have met with the most perfect happiness which -it has ever fallen to my lot to enjoy. At Glenalta -I have found the kindest affection, the -most genuine refinement, not confined to mere -exterior observance assumed for strangers, but -originating in the heart, and living in every action. -I have been instructed and amused; and -while each hour has done something towards the -cultivation of feelings and powers which I did -not imagine I possessed, I have never been once -a prey to <i>ennui</i>, that constant and wearisome associate -of my former life.</p> - -<p>Dear Louisa, you have a good understanding -and your heart is naturally lively, and even <i>kind</i>, -if you were not perverted by the precepts, -creeds, and example of that most dogmatizing -of all human teachers—Fashion. Why not -break the bonds that shackle your every thought, -as well as action? Why not exchange the -coarse, (alas, yes, I <i>must</i> speak truth) I say the -coarse, unfeminine language of your last letter -for that of true delicacy and female softness? <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> -My ears are new strung I suppose, for sounds -which scarcely made a passing impression before -I came to Ireland, now grate upon the organs -of sense, and vibrate painfully to my heart.</p> - -<p>When I picture to my mind the scene which -is now acting in Grosvenor Square, I confess -that I feel disgusted almost to estrangement from -those who are the chief performers in such a -drama; and you are very right in the belief -that were there any means by which without -lowering a mother's character, I could inform -that <i>arch</i>-blockhead, whom she has entrapped, -of the fraud that has been employed to take him -in, I would certainly, in humbling his vanity, -remove his blindness, and charitably catch him -from the brink of a precipice. What a marriage -you are <i>brewing</i> amongst you! Were <i>you</i> -the victim about to be sacrificed on the altar of -folly, I could not restrain my feelings, which -would burst into immediate counteraction of a -plot to destroy all happiness and respectability; -and I am more quiescent on <i>this</i> occasion, <i>not</i> -because I have always loved you so much better -than Adelaide, but that I question the utility of <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> -endeavouring to snatch <i>her</i> from the evil to come. -She has no strength of character: her mind is a -mere machine, ready and willing to be worked -upon by the arts of any juggler who can produce -a certificate of skill in the only science respected -by a world holding all things in abhorrence -that do not present themselves clad in the -trappings of rank and fortune.</p> - -<p>If Adelaide were saved from falling into the -hands of <i>one</i> profligate coxcomb, she would -quickly throw herself into the arms of <i>another</i>. -Crayton is not a designing man, and that is the -only redeeming circumstance that I can see in -his character—if the word character have any -meaning when applied to a person who has -<i>none</i>.</p> - -<p>Say to my mother that, as a point of duty, I -shall obey her mandate, and as soon as I am legally -empowered to act, will do any thing to assist -her which can be done without injuring a -property too heavily burthened already. But, -dear Louisa, you must prepare her, Adelaide, -and yourself for my absence at the marriage ceremony: -I cannot perform the part assigned to <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> -me. My mind revolts from participating in a -<i>trick</i>, and I will never sanction the fraud by -becoming a witness. I warn you of the evil, -and I can do no more. We are totally unacquainted -with my uncle, who may never give us -a shilling, who may dislike when he is acquainted -with his relations, and either marry, adopt a -stranger for his heir, or leave his wealth to public -charities. In short, we know nothing about -him, and if it should turn out that the golden -dreams with which my mother has dazzled the -imagination of a man who has wasted his patrimony, -and involved himself almost in ruin, melt -in empty air, what consequences may not be -anticipated? I turn with horror from the perspective, -and dare not tell you <i>all</i> my fears! -Crayton has an uncle too, and one from whom -he expects the fortune, upon a reversionary hope -of which, he has, to my knowledge, been trading -for a long time past to supply the exigencies -of the gambling table, to which he is obstinately -addicted; and the pale face which you visited -on a double dole of Burgundy, was probably -attributable to a loss at play which, under existing <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> -circumstances, it would not be pleasant -to reveal.</p> - -<p>I have now said enough to put my mother -and Adelaide on their guard. A little <i>candour</i> -would easily bring the matter to a conclusion, -and prevent the mischief which is likely to ensue; -but it rests with them to determine. I am -not asked to advise, and do not say that I am -qualified to act as counsel for any one. I trust, -however, that I may be forgiven for this unsolicited -interference, on the score of brotherly feelings, -which <i>shrink</i> from the projected alliance, -splendid as it appears.</p> - -<p>Louisa, should the day arrive, in which you -become acquainted with the Douglas family, I -am not without hope of your proselytism. -What joy it would give me to see you like these -charming girls, and I am the more impatient -that it <i>should be so</i>, because you have all the -materials which might promise a rich harvest, -were they but used to advantage. I would -stake more than I shall ever be worth, that you -will delight in the society of our aunt and cousins, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> -if you are ever introduced to them.</p> - -<p>Say all that is affectionate to my mother and -Adelaide, and add, that I give them present pain, -to avoid for them a severer future pang. Adieu.</p> - -<p class="right"><span class="padding-right4">Your affectionate,</span><br /> -<span class="smcap padding-right2">Arthur Howard.</span> -</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - -<p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span></p> - -<h2>LETTER XVIII.</h2> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Arthur Howard to Charles Falkland.</span></p> - -<p> -My dear Falkland, -</p> - -<p>I commence my Killarney <i>advices</i> on the -first evening of my arrival there, or I should -despair of sending you the promised packet on -my return to Glenalta. We reached our inn -in gay spirits, having come over bad and good -roads alternately, and through a barren wild -looking country; but a party, composed of such -agreeable ingredients, and affording so much -variety as ours did, is very independent of external -scenery. If beautiful, it affords an additional -source of pleasure, and <i>one</i> topic more -for occasional comment; if otherwise, one can -<i>do without</i> it: the latter was our case. Having -once exclaimed, How desolate! we thought no -more about the grievance of an ugly country, -but laughed and talked, exchanged places—some <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> -riding, some driving, till we found ourselves -at our journey's end, after performing -five-and-thirty miles without any misadventure. -Mr. Otway had written on before to provide -"entertainment for man and horse;" so when -we arrived we had the satisfaction of finding -ourselves <i>expected</i>, which makes a <i>difference</i> -everywhere, but particularly in a situation -which cannot afford to relax in a single instance -the discipline which keeps up some appearance -of order and cleanliness; however, I -do not mean to throw aspersions on our <i>hotelerie</i>, -and am not one of those who consider it fair -to abuse unmercifully whatever we find near -home, while with something <i>more</i> than philosophy, -we <i>revel</i> in the <i>desagrémens</i> of foreign -countries, preferring dirt and inconvenience -abroad to all the luxuries of <i>comfortable</i> England.</p> - -<p>In ten minutes after our arrival we were assailed -by all sorts of people; boatmen wishing -to engage our large party, musicians desirous -of attending us on the lakes, beggars -hoping to receive charity, with sundry applicants <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> -bringing boxes made of the red deer-hoofs, -which are very neatly manufactured here, -and various cups, goblets, and other utensils -formed from the arbutus, which grows at this -place in lavish profusion; all anxious to sell -their wares, and all clamorous to recommend -them.</p> - -<p>Mr. Otway, who knows the genius of the -place, and is well known here and loved everywhere, -undertook to direct our operations; -and, singling out a remarkably fine looking -man from the rough personages by whom we -were surrounded, addressed him by the name -of M'Carty More, and ordered him to be ready -with all possible punctuality and accommodation -at seven o'clock on the following day at -Ross Castle, where we were to embark. The -workers in red deer-hoofs and arbutus, were -ordered to bring large supplies of the toys in -which they dealt on the day preceding our -departure, and the beggars were dispersed -with a promise that they should have <i>a scramble</i> -when we were going away, for which these -ill-fed, worse clothed, cheerful, and easily-satisfied <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> -beings, were as grateful as if every want -had been supplied at the present and prevented -for the future.</p> - -<p>After this <i>clearance</i>, we sat down to a repast -rendered delightful by companionship, had it -been less intrinsically excellent; but Killarney -salmon ought to have a place in my journal, -and should be farther noticed <i>here</i>, were it -not not to figure on the scene again. After -dinner we walked to Lord Kenmare's, and -amused ourselves in his demesne, during two -or three hours, my aunt having insisted on -our leaving her at the inn, as she complained -of being fatigued; and those who were best -acquainted with all her feelings, suspecting -that to be left <i>alone</i> would soothe them, no -offer was made to remain with her by any of -the group.</p> - -<p>On our return to the inn, we were surprised -to find an elderly gentleman sitting with her, -who proved to be old Bentley, and never did -I see more evident annoyance expressed in a -countenance, than was depicted in the nephew's -at sight of his uncle. They met, however, with <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> -cordiality <i>too</i>, but the younger of them, though -singularly unexcitable in general, changed -colour upon the present occasion, and appeared -suddenly cast down by this accession -to our party: however, we were sufficiently -numerous to prevent any <i>downright</i> awkwardness, -whatever might be the existing cause of -young Bentley's uneasy sensations; and his -uncle explained his sudden appearance by telling -us, that having reached his home too late -on the preceding evening to disturb the families -at Glenalta and Lisfarne, he delayed announcing -his return till the following day, when, -having learned our <i>elopement</i>, he resolved on -not being left behind.</p> - -<p>You may fancy us rather closely packed in -our <i>dormitories</i>: Russell, Annesley, and I, were -crammed into a hole just large enough to -hold three small camp-beds, no bigger than -births on board a Holyhead packet: we could -neither toss nor tumble, for the best possible -reason, we had not <i>room</i> for such indications -of restlessness; but we lay quietly as sleeplessly -we "chewed the cud of sweet and bitter <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> -fancy" upon all that we had seen and heard -in company with each other since the "<i>English -foreigners</i>," as old Lawrence calls them, -had been at Glenalta. In the pauses which -will occur, even in the best supported colloquy, -sundry sighs, which had not quite so far -to travel as from "Indus to the Pole," were -borne right into my bed by the <i>impetus</i> with -which they were sent from Russell's, and a certain -melancholy expression, which even a sigh -can convey to a <i>finely constructed</i> ear, convinced -me that my friend had lost his heart, -or at least <i>mislaid</i> it since he came amongst -us. While exercising my ingenuity a little -farther, to determine the person who had committed -grand larceny on his affections, a few -notes whistled from time to time, <i>sotto voce</i>, -assured me that Charlotte was the thief, and -that her Irish melodies lived in the memory of -my poor <i>chum</i>. Annesley is such a sensitive -fellow, that if his heart is anything the worse -for the wear since he came to Ireland, I have -it to discover; but from the specimen which I -have given above, I flatter myself that you <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> -have already decreed my sagacity to be worthy -of apotheosis, even amongst the North American -Indians.</p> - -<p>This Killarney will be a good test, I think, -of our amatory tendencies, and a romance -<i>a-piece</i> must be the result of such "means -and appliances" as a glance from Lord Kenmare's -park, across the lower Lake, promise -for our <i>coup d'essai</i> on the morrow. Mine is -rather a situation of responsibility, for, in addition -to my <i>own</i> loves, should these bowers -inspire the tender passion, I feel a God-fatherly -sort of security called for on my part, -that the new guests shall conduct themselves -so as to return well pleased, and pleasing, to -the last. In short, though, like Mrs. Gilpin -we are "on pleasure bent," it must be to resemble -her discretion also, "with a prudent -mind," and I clearly perceive that I shall have -to enact the part of a male <i>duenna</i>.</p> - -<p>The appointed hour found all ready, and -M'Carty More, that noble <i>savage</i> before-mentioned, -who claims to be king of the boatmen, -was the first object that we beheld on issuing <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> -from our <i>malapardis</i>. This man is quite a -character, and so strikingly fine a specimen -of rude, but manly beauty, that were he a -little less weather-beaten, he might stand for -a Hercules to Canova, were he alive again, or -to Chauntry. His <i>calling</i> renders him quite familiar -with his superiors, and he takes the -command of his party as a pilot does of the -ship, <i>pro tempore</i>. Mrs. Fitzroy, whose animation -is very inspiriting, and whose enthusiasm -I told you in a former despatch is glowing -for the Irish character, chose him for her -<i>Cicerone</i>, and, taking him by the arm, led the -van towards the scene of embarkation.</p> - -<p>If you wish to know, as that mad-cap Melville -used to say, "who and who were together," -you may <i>enfilade</i> us as follows. Next to -M'Carty More and Mrs. Fitzroy marched my -aunt, leaning on the arm of Frederick, who, -I believe, in the midst of all the beauty that -Circassia could boast, and all the fashion that -London and Paris exhibit, would still be found -his mother's prop: on her left side Bentley the -elder with his hands tight in his breeches <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> -pockets, as though he feared that their contents -were going to fly away, <i>paddled</i> along, with unequal -steps. Mr. Otway took charge of Emily; -and I observed that a simultaneous movement -of that slow and fearful nature that scarcely -indicates design, incited at the same identical -moment Bentley the younger and Annesley -to wish that the disengaged hand of my cousin -were safely lodged under the protective care -of a right arm belonging to them, though neither -had courage to step forward and offer -himself as a candidate for the honour to which -both aspired. Moreover I made a second observation; -and though these sapient remarks -were formed <i>in transitu</i> from the threshhold of -the inn to the street, I'll be sworn that I am -right. "But what was your second observation?" -quoth you. Why, it was, that the -<i>mauvaise honte</i> which prevented our rival <i>beaux</i> -from interfering with Mr. Otway's exclusive -possession of the fair one's attention, arose from -different causes, and produced different effects -in the minds of the disappointed knights. -Annesley's timidity lay in his breast, where, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> -if he has made the confession to himself, he -has truly said that Emily's is the character, of -all he has ever seen, which comes nearest to his -abstract of perfection in woman. On this <i>beau -idéal</i> I have heard him dilate, and thus far can -decide upon his feelings. <i>He</i> then was moved -by an incipient desire to improve acquaintance, -and secure a sort of prescriptive right to be -Emily's <i>particular</i> in our wanderings by "wood -and lake;" but the thought, though proceeding -from preference established since the day of his -arrival, was an <i>impromptu</i> of the instant in its -present shape, and the reality of the sentiment -which gave birth to the wish, confounded its -ready expression; whereas in Bentley's manner -I could trace more of the guardian than -the lover; he was less anxious to appropriate -Emily's society exclusively to himself, than to -prevent its being appropriated by another, and -this again was less dictated by a jealous or -churlish feeling, than by a strictness of opinion -on the subject of a young lady's walking -arm-in-arm with a stranger. All this I read at -a glance, and perhaps you will tell me that <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> -such profound skill in what the French call <i>le -metaphysique de l'amour</i>, could only be learnt -in Cupid's court; but the fact is, that I am -<i>only</i> in love with the entire family, and therefore -safe for the <i>present</i>, at least, from the imputation -of having been a <i>booby</i> till the blind -god had sharpened my penetration.</p> - -<p>Charlotte and Fanny were hooked upon my -arms; Russell keeping a steady eye upon the -former's left side, which he contrived to secure -as soon as we had cleared the door; and our -brace of <i>shy</i> youths were presently resolved into -<i>unattached flankers</i>, who changed sides, fell back, -or pushed forward, as pigs, dogs, children, &c. -interrupted our progress to the water's edge. -At length we were seated in our barge, and -Cleopatra on the silver Cydnus could never -have swung the oar more gallantly than we did -from Ross Castle. I shall not favour you with -the history of tenfold reverberations, which you -will hear when you visit this scene of enchantment; -nor shall I think it necessary to give you -such details as if I were going to raise the wind -in these book-making days by publishing, "A <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> -Companion to the Lakes of Killarney," but -hastening to our first <i>stop</i>, land you on the exquisite -island of Innisfallen, where we lingered -for hours, unable to tear ourselves from its tiny -shores, every little pebbled indenture of which -might represent that where Ellen is described -by the northern bard to have landed from her -skiff in Loch Cattrine.</p> - -<p>This Killarney is a centre of legendary lore, -and the lovely islet on which we first touched -<i>terra firma</i> from our boat, was the depository of -those annals which bear its name. Domine, -who did not appear in our procession from the -inn, because he had walked alone to the castle -that he might try the echo at his leisure before -we came up, told us a thousand interesting particulars -of this spot, and entertained us with various -stories, rich in fabulous, as well as real -events, of the olden time. Why does not that -wizard Scott, draw from a source so worthy of -his magic pen? He has been here, but passed, I -am told, through Ireland gnerally with such -rapidity, that his carriage wheels hardly seemed -to come in contact with the earth. Positively, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> -unless he can endure it to be thought that with -a few lithographic sketches in his hand, he -skimmed over the country, contracting for -views <i>as per sample</i>, like a corn merchant bargaining -to replenish his stores, the author of -Waverly <i>must</i> shew signs of having visited this -little focus of imagery by dressing one of his -matchless casts in the drapery with which Killarney -could furnish his splendid powers of -tasteful decoration.</p> - -<p>Will that genius, who can transform into -gems the commonest minerals produced in a -desert, and give with African prodigality, the -purest gold in return for rusty nails, and beads -of glass; will <i>he</i> permit Erin to draw the ungracious -inference from his silence, that she -could supply <i>no</i> materials for his laboratory? and -while so many immortal records of Scotland's -fame and England's glory, have been charmed -from their dark retreats by his necromantic -spells, shall Ireland, the fertile Isle of Emerald -glow,—the island of saints,—the land of -heroes,—the fane of learning, piety, and music, -—be left to rest on the divided property in Fingal <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> -for all poetical memorial of her traditional -celebrity? Forbid it justice! forbid it gratitude! -Let not a people who have so liberally -bestowed their praise on those numbers in -which their neighbours have been so sweetly -harmonized, remain themselves unsung!</p> - -<p>Some of our party eloquently urging the -claims of Hibernia to a niche in the temple -of Apollo, Russell, addressing himself to Mr. -Oliphant, said, "I hope that you will not -mistake my object in asking you a question -which I have often heard triumphantly asked, -and never answered, namely, if Ireland was -really, at a former peroid distinguished as a -seat of learning, virtue, and genius, where are -her credentials? What is become of her buildings? -Where are her documents of proof to -support these fond pretensions? Now I echo -this inquiry not in the spirit of a sceptic, but -because I can never in future listen to such interrogatories -with the phlegm of indifference, -and I wish to be provided with an argument to -rebut the conclusion which is frequently drawn <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> -from silence on this subject."</p> - -<p>"Indeed, my dear sir," answered Mr. Oliphant, -"I have always thought the question -very irrelevant, and the triumph very unfair. -If we boasted that Ireland had produced the -finest architects in the world, we might be desired -to shew the monuments of their skill. If -we arrogated the fame of wealth, we might be -challenged to point out the palaces in which -the splendid of past days had held their revels; -but we lay claim to none of these things. Our -pride consists in having been a learned and -pious people. Now piety and scholarship are -not so often allied to worldly distinction in <i>this</i> -age of mankind, that we should associate them -in a <i>past</i> time through any existing analogy. -That Ireland was resorted to for education; -that she produced men remarkable for knowledge -and virtues; that her <i>magi</i> were held in repute -and invited into other countries, to impart -the treasures of superior light; that her ambassadors -took precedence upon different occasions, -of those sent by the sister kingdom, to continental <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> -courts and councils, are matters of historical -record which we have no right to contradict, -unless we can prove their falsehood; and as -to the remnants of antiquity, which are insisted -upon, we may collect ample testimony to evince -a high state of former cultivation, if we make -due allowance for poverty, subsequent civil -wars, and the dilapidating influence of a damp -climate. The language of Ireland bears evidence -of ancient date. Every letter in the alphabet -is in itself <i>the name of a tree</i>, which leads -to the inference of originality in its design. The -round towers of this country, many of which -are in the highest state of preservation, baffle -the utmost skill in research to account for their -purpose, and determine their age. Of one -thing only are we certain, and that is, of their -great duration, and that, as far as present information -extends upon the subject, Persia is the -only country, besides Ireland, where buildings -of this remarkable structure have been found. -Our Druidical remains are in fine preservation, -in various parts of the island. The names of -several of our elevated promontories, with other <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> -circumstances, mark the fire-worship of eastern -usage to have prevailed here. In many parts of -the kingdom, ornaments in gold and silver have -been discovered, of the purest metal, and most -elaborate workmanship. I have seen some -lately that were dug up in the neighbourhood -of Dublin, which, for beauty in execution and -elegance of device, may vie with any modern -manufacture, and which, likewise, are identified -with eastern fashion, as the decorations to which -I allude were exactly similar to the Indian -bangles, and must have been employed as such, -to deck the ancles of the wearer. In our search -after mines, we have come upon ancient excavations, -and often found tools of brass which bore -testimony to the former working in different -places, and at a period so remote that the instruments -used for the purpose are formed of a -material, and exhibit shapes totally unlike any -of our modern implements. In this very county -are to be found curious remains of two spacious -amphitheatres which, if discovered in any other -country of the earth, would excite the liveliest -competition of industry to explain; but because <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> -these things are discovered in Ireland instead of -Tartary or Siberia, ridicule and contempt are -their portion. However, as the one flows from -ignorance, and the other from coldheartedness -or jealousy, and neither affords demonstration, -we may hope that they will cease, and that a -land, too fertile of soil, too rich in the finest -harbours in Europe, to have been overlooked in -early times, will regain her character which has -been lost through the misfortunes of her history. -You must bear in mind that in the very remote -periods of which our accounts are scanty and -imperfect, the religion of this country was not -Roman Catholic. It was a much purer faith, -and free altogether from those superstitions -which now disfigure the Popish ritual. The -poor Waldenses in their vallies of Piedmont, -though they have lost much of their original -simplicity in a necessary communion from time -to time with the Protestants of Geneva, still -preserve, I believe the nearest approach of any -mode of worship extant, to what <i>was</i> our creed -about the time of Saint Patrick, whose <i>purgatory</i> -was instituted many centuries after his <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> -death. In <i>those</i> days then, the magnificent -piles which owe their existence to the zeal of -papal devotion, would not have been erected -here, whatever might have been the pecuniary -abundance of the people; and at a later time, -when abuses crept in, and the pure faith was exchanged -for that inconsistent mass of human invention -appended by bigotry and avarice to gospel -truth, Ireland was too poor, and too savage -a nation, to raise such mighty altars as bear witness -to the former wealth and glory of your -beautiful England.</p> - -<p>"<i>Some</i> remnants we do possess of ancient -grandeur, and we can still shew you specimens -both of Saxon and Gothic architecture, which -are worthy of your highest admiration, though -they not numerous, I confess.</p> - -<p>"Lord Elgin has transplanted much of the -Athenian Parthenon into the heart of London; -what he left, is daily suffering deterioration, -and diminution. If the pride of Greece, the -classic, the inimitable Athens, should vanish, -and, like the Golgotha of Troy, only exhibit the -<i>place</i> where once stood in unrivalled grace and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> -splendor, would you not still declare that her -temples and her statues, though crumbling in -the dust, proclaim that Pericles and Phidias -<i>once</i> had being.</p> - -<p>"If but a single column of the once astonishing -Pæstum now survived the decay of time -and the barbarism of man, would you suffer incredulity -to take her stand amid the ruins, and -fulminate her tasteless anathemas from the very -scene of whilom greatness? <i>We</i> only crave a -measure of the same candour which you liberally -employ on other occasions. Let our -round towers and cromlechs, our castles and -abbeys, be allowed in evidence of our not being -a nation just sprung from the sea; and suffer -our annals and chronicles to be received in testimony -of our having sent forth pious and -learned men, when less favoured countries -sought our assistance. Come now, and I will -shew you a fine Saxon arch in this wee island."</p> - -<p>As we moved on towards the ruin, we found -some of our party gazing on the lake below, -from a little rocky eminence on which they were -seated, and here we caught Mrs. Fitzroy and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> -old Bentley in furious debate. He is an odd -sort of <i>restive</i> old fellow; sharp, clear sighted, -and very bitter in his remarks; but withal good-natured, -and, though rough, by no means implacable. -Mrs. Fitzroy had been, I suppose, -expressing some sentiment in favour of the -Irish peasantry, perhaps in praise of the Herculean -M'Carty; for just as we reached the -spot where the antagonists were contending, -Bentley exclaimed with stentorian vehemence, -"Madam, I tell you that they are rascals, one -and all. It is a mere fiction to talk of the Irish -as you do. I know them better. They are a -cringing lying race; and as to your admired -M'Carty More, he is a drunken dissolute dog; -and you spoil him by letting him prate for your -diversion."</p> - -<p>"Upon my word, Mr. Bentley," answered -his adversary, "your abuse is wholesale, and -spreads over too large a surface to cut deeply. -I do not agree with you; and I repeat, that -such is my preference for the people of this country, -that I shall beg my friends Mrs. Douglas -and Mr. Otway to be on the look out for a cottage <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> -to suit me in their vicinity at Glenalta."</p> - -<p>"No, no, madam, you will do no such thing," -retorted the cynic; "you are acting more -wisely. Believe me, that the most knowing -people are those who <i>travel about, if society be -their object</i>. By change of place, you come in -for the best of every stage at which you halt. -You skim the cream as it were, and ought never -to rest long enough any where to alter your opinions -of people, very few of whom, be assured, -will stand the test of intimacy. There is nothing -truer than that Alexander was no hero to -his valet-de-chambre, and the maxim applies as -forcibly to nations as to individuals. You will -tire of us, if you know us better, and look back -upon your present judgment as mere poetry. -Every oyster is made up of the fish and its -shells. Swallow the one and get rid of the -others as fast as you can: they are not worth -keeping, and you will do well to throw them -away."</p> - -<p>"Not with <i>my</i> charitable feelings," said Mrs. -Fitzroy, "pounded oyster shells are a fine corrective -of acid. I would reserve them for the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> -good of all who require alteratives, and you -should have a Benjamin's dose."</p> - -<p>Old Bentley is a merry wight, with all his -acerbity, and as this <i>hit</i> was made with perfect -good-humour, and a playful countenance, it had -a happy effect, and seemed to raise his estimation -of the powers of mind opposed to him.</p> - -<p>"Madam," answered he, "I thank you for -your desire to make me better, though your -<i>sweetners</i> should not succeed. I pique myself -on seeing things as they <i>are</i>, and set my face always -steadily against every species of romance."</p> - -<p>In so saying, he gave a consequential <i>hem</i>, -and turned his eyes towards "poor George," -his nephew, whose nerves are, luckily for himself, -not externally perturbable, and though I -am certain he <i>felt</i> that "more was meant than -met the ear," he continued, as calmly as possible, -to converse with my aunt, whom he had engaged -in a <i>tête-à-tête</i>.</p> - -<p>We were now reminded by M'Carthy More -that Innisfallen was only the beginning, not the -end of our progress; and, regaining our barge, -we were again embarked. This may be a proper <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> -place to tell you, lest I should forget it here-after, -that to prevent any unavailing efforts on -your part at tracing the pedigree of so great a -personage as the said King of our Killarney -lake-men, the word <i>More</i>, which appears like a -sirname, is in reality the Irish for <i>Great</i>, as <i>Beg</i> -is for <i>Little</i>: so that M'Carthy More means -the great or chief M'Carthy.</p> - -<p>We now bent our course towards Glena. If -you were not coming one of these days to see -with your own eyes, and hear with your own -ears, the wonders of this little elysium, I should -send you my journal at once, where almost every -tree is registered as if I were an Irish tenant, -and had planted them myself; but of description -you will not have much in my letter, or it -would swell to a volume; and, as it is, you would -be bankrupt, were it not for your good luck, -which again presents a private opportunity of -sending a packet to you.</p> - -<p>At Glena we landed, and here the arbutus -arrested our steps, and fixed the party for some -time in amazement at its quantity and size. -Here too, our <i>Monarch</i> informed us that we <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> -should fish for our dinner, inviting us to watch -the process of drawing a net. Broken into -groups, we seated ourselves along the margin of -the lake, and I for one could have believed myself -translated into some happier region, <i>at least</i> -intermediate between heaven and earth. As I -muttered something to this effect, I heard a -sound behind me resembling the growl of a dog -who is not quite sure whether he should bark or -not. I turned round, and beheld old Bentley -at my heels; and this movement had the effect -which it would have operated on one of the canine -species in giving voice to the <i>grumble</i>.</p> - -<p>"Aye, aye, poetry and sentiment—romance -and delusion! But yours, Mr. Howard, is the -natural age for all these humbugs. You will -come to your senses before your glass runs out, -and find that you are mistaken in your views of -happiness."</p> - -<p>"Well, sir," said I, "it is some comfort that -at my time of life you <i>admit</i> of my being deceived -into bliss; and as life is short, as well as precarious, -it is a great matter to be delighted even -with <i>shadows</i>. But why do you set your face, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> -Mr. Bentley, against nature, and insist upon -forestalling the season of care, and laying burthens -of anxiety on shoulders not fitted to the -toil of supporting them? The colt in the forest -is allowed to range at liberty till his strength is -matured, and he can bear the load that is destined -for his back. Do you really think that it -is right to anticipate evil, and never enjoy present -good?"</p> - -<p>"No, sir," replied Mr. Bentley; "but a wise -man removes the veil from his eyes as soon as -possible, and endeavours to see through the -mists of folly and prejudice which obscure his -horizon. He directs all his energies to the pole -star of truth, which will quickly place the things -of this world in their just light to his understanding, -and teach him that what is called society -is a foul cheat; a dishonest compact, by -which people agree to jockey each other, and -pass, like counterfeit coin, for the things that -they are not; assuming manners, professing regard, -and displaying dispositions the very opposite -of those that are exhibited when the mask is -taken off in the privacy of retirement. Then, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> -as to sunshine, and fine scenery, let people enjoy -them for the <i>time</i> if they will, but not imagine -that a cloudless sky or perennial green -would change the heart of man and make him -contented. No, sir, independence is the only -positive good of merely earthly origin; it gives -us the power of being useful to others, and of -being disengaged from the trammels of the -world ourselves."</p> - -<p>"And pray," said Mrs. Fitzroy, who leaned -on my right arm, while Emily occupied the left, -Mr. Otway and George Bentley bringing up the -rear of <i>our</i> division, "are such feelings as you -express likely to lead to your conclusion? Will -riches be employed for the relief of others who -want their aid, by a man who thinks of his fellow-creatures -as you do, and looks at creation -through a jaundiced medium?"</p> - -<p>"Perhaps not always with <i>intention</i>, madam," -said old <i>Crabstick</i>; "but the beauty of money -is that it works without impulse, and <i>must</i> do -good in spite of its possessor. Even a miser, -who expends only enough to preserve life, is -hoarding that which, if useless now, will circulate <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> -here-after for the benefit of mankind. And -this is an extreme case: there are few misers in -the community."</p> - -<p>"I conclude then," said Mrs. Fitzroy, "that -you approve of money matches as they are called, -and would not readily forgive a son of yours -if you had one, for marrying badly, in a worldly -sense?"</p> - -<p>"Certainly, madam," answered old Bentley, -with great animation, and apparently charmed -with having an opportunity in this natural manner -of giving out the whole "head and front" -of his opinion upon so important a subject, -<i>perhaps</i> with a secret view of regulating the -conduct of his nephew, "You are perfectly -right, very right indeed in your supposition, -Mrs. Fitzroy. Money matches are the <i>only -matches</i>. Money meets money, there is no deception -in that sympathy, all else is balderdash; -and except in a very few remarkable cases of -happy marriage, which like the flowers of the -aloë, bloom only once in a hundred years, you -may pick out and select with all your care the -finest ingredients of learning, taste, accomplishments, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> -and so forth. I give you <i>carte blanche</i> -in your choice, but bring them together at the -altar, and in a year you will have a dish of <i>sour -crout</i> as the result of your compound."</p> - -<p>"How <i>can</i> you hold such opinions of your -fellow-creatures, Mr. Bentley? It is surely -you yourself that convert all mankind into -acids, by looking on them. I should be afraid -if you walked into my dairy, that the very milk-pans -would turn to curds and whey on your -entrance," answered Mrs. Fitzroy; "but were -the fact really as you describe, I should like, for -the sake of curiosity, to hear how you account -for this transmuting effect of marriage on the -human mind?"</p> - -<p>"Why, madam, in various ways. In the -principal number of instances, no transmutation -at all takes place; the only difference is, -that people discover each other's true characters -when it is too late to remedy their want of accordance, -and then it is much worse to find -yourself ill yoked in marriage, than suffering -disagreement in any other relation of life. If -children live unhappily with parents, there are <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> -all the chances of death, matrimony, and profession, -for separating the discordant elements. -If brothers and sisters quarrel, <i>they</i> too are free -to hope at least for better days; and in both -these cases the evil in question is not of a man's -own contriving. No one feels lessened in his -own eyes, however he may be otherwise vexed, -if he loses at a game of hazard; but marriage -is like chess, if we are <i>check-mated</i> there, it is -our own fault, and proves our want of penetration. -This, madam, is a grand cause of unhappiness -in married life. People cannot forgive -themselves for having sacrificed their liberties, -and committed <i>felo de se</i> on their own peace. If -you are not satisfied with the causes already -given, of disunion in this generally luckless -bond, I can supply you with fresh impediments -to contentment, without going out of my way -in search of them. I see people every day -whose wits are all laid up in ordinary, like ships -of war after a battle, which, when once the -conflict is over, are dismantled, and left to their -fate. Intellect, madam, which you ladies of the -<i>Blue school</i> make such a fuss about, is a pretty <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> -toy in the hands and heads of single folk, who -turn it to account for pleasure or profit; but in -married life, it is not wanted. People who are -buckled together, probably know each other's -sentiments upon most subjects; and no one would -ever be at the trouble of talking upon abstract -matters, if the vanity of display, the pride of -triumph and the stimulus of novelty, were put -out of the question. The world of <i>fashion</i> is -not troubled with brains in either <i>one</i> condition -or the <i>other</i>; and as for your Darbys and Joans, -it is far better for them to nod at each other in -a couple of arm-chairs in the chimney corner, -than debate about morals, manners, or 'the -Punic war.' Madam, man is <i>sui generis</i>, a -pugnacious dogged animal, and requires all the -restraints which public opinion imposes, to prevent -him from being rude and overbearing. -Amongst strangers he <i>must</i> not be so, or if he -give way, and outstep the bounds of propriety, -he is sure to get a timely rap over the knuckles, -which calls him to order; but in his own family -he is generally a bear without its muzzle on, and -depend upon it, the less <i>argument</i> the better between <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> -the sexes, when once they are noosed in -the holy bands. They have enough to do to get -through the daily affairs of life, without fighting -in earnest upon practical subjects; and are foolish -if they throw away time in idle skirmishing -on theoretical topics. What signifies it to any -man, or woman either, whether Newton's <i>Principia</i> -be founded, or not, in true philosophy; -whether Lock's Essay on the Human Understanding -be or be not unanswerable; whether -air and water are simples or compounds; -whether the earths can be turned into metals, -and diamonds be reducible, so as to leave no -residuum behind in the crucible. Such points -are very useful and interesting to mathematicians, -professors of moral philosophy and chemists, -but what have lawyers, physicians, officers in the -army and navy, merchants, and country gentlemen, -to do with these matters at their fire-sides? -No, madam, people must, that is, the <i>major part</i> -of mankind, must marry, for so it is ordained. -The earth must be replenished, and marriage is -the nursery to furnish a succession of young -plants, as the old ones die down, and return to <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> -their dust; but <i>wise</i> people (I grant you that -they are few in number), purchase exemption -from many of the thorns and vexations of life -by the union of well-lined purses. Prudent -parents, by insisting on good settlements and -suitable <i>pin-money</i> (as a separate income -is foolishly called), may secure their daughters -against the tyranny of present power, and -future extravagance; while a man who marries -a good fortune, is enabled to relieve both himself -and his wife from the <i>tedium vitæ</i> of each -other's society, by keeping a hospitable table at -which cheerful company may beguile the monotony -of domestic routine."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Fitzroy smiled, and said, "Well, at least -you are candid enough to throw the principal -odium on the male part of creation, and I -believe that many women would heartily thank -you for the establishment of liberal <i>pin</i> money, -which, according to your account, is very <i>aptly</i> -named I think, as it is the only arrangement -you say, that attaches the parties to each other, -and prevents perpetual flying off?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, madam, in ninety-nine cases out of <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> -every hundred, money is at the <i>bottom</i> of domestic -strife. Some women are fools and lavish, -others are cunning and narrow-minded; but, -almost <i>all</i> men are devoted to the <i>love of power</i>, -and hate to share the dominion over their -coffers. It may perhaps surprise you to hear -what I am going to say, coming from the lips of -a rough mortal like myself, but I will confess -that I have never known any thing approaching -to happiness or respectability in married life -where, if the woman did not manage all the -pecuniary concerns of the family, she had not at -least an equal share in them. I have a tolerably -bad opinion, generally speaking, of <i>both</i> sexes, -but of the <i>two</i>, I think yours better than my -own. Lord Chesterfield, who saw human -nature in its true colours, though he abuses -men and women without <i>parsimony</i>, still -allots something of a better character, because -a less selfish one to the ladies, when in his -division of mankind, he asserts that "the -former are compounded of vanity and avarice; -the latter of vanity and love.'"</p> - -<p>"I hate these cynics," said Mrs. Fitzroy; "and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> -as to <i>you</i>, Mr. Bentley, I feel certain, that some -early disappointment in life might tell its tale, -and account for your cross-grained notions of -the world. Let me hear what Mr. Otway says -on this subject."</p> - -<p>"My opinions," said the amiable Lord of -Lisfarne, so far agree with those of my worthy -friend, that I feel the imperfection of my <i>species</i>, -and have only to turn my thoughts inward to -perceive the depravity and weakness of the -human heart. Yet in this motley world there -is <i>much</i> enjoyment, <i>much</i> rational happiness, if -we use with moderation the materials which -Providence has bountifully placed within our -reach. The fact is, that this scene is <i>too</i> alluring -with all its errors and misfortunes; and a -far greater share of good might be achieved if -we did not mar our own happiness. It has -been my lot to see the finest endowments of -human character united in the bonds of wedded -affection, and I have lived to see such perfect -harmony in married life, that I can never -charge the preponderance of misery that we -daily witness to the state <i>itself</i>. On the contrary, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> -were people to employ only as much attention -in this most important act of life, as they do in -any ordinary traffic, we should not have to deplore -the shipwreck of domestic happiness in -ninety-nine instances out of every hundred: but -I am far from thinking that it requires to be -highly gifted to be happy. If the capacity -of one vessel be as a pint, that of another as -a gallon, and a third as a hogshead, all may -be <i>full</i>, and none can be <i>more</i> than full. I am -of opinion, too, that very unequal measures of -intellect may meet both profitably and agreeably -in connubial life, though there can be no -doubt of the superior charms of such companionship -as that to which I first alluded; -but it is a singular coincidence, that I should at -this moment have a letter in my pocket from a -relation of my own, precisely apposite to our -present argument, which, if you like, I will read -to you."</p> - -<p>We had just requested to hear the story, -when Frederick came running out of breath, to -summon us all to the beach where the nets were -drawing. We immediately started up, and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> -hurrying towards the shore, adjourned our debate -till after dinner, when <i>Phil.</i> engaged to -fulfil his promise. Assembled on the edge of -the lake, we saw several of the finest salmon I -ever beheld, brought to land, and M'Carty -More having secured two of the largest, for -which he made the bargain himself, he proposed -that we should proceed to Dinas Island, where -the fish was to be roasted after the manner in -which the people here are accustomed to dress -it. As we were preparing to go on board the -boat, Frederick whispered to me a remark that -M'Carty had made, in his untutored phrase, -upon Bentley the elder, and Mr. Otway, as he -saw them walking forward together.</p> - -<p>"There goes a pair that were never made to -walk abreast."</p> - -<p>"How do you mean?" said Fred.</p> - -<p>"Why, sir, that straight and crooked, bitter -and sweet, short and long, are fitter for-harness -than those two men."</p> - -<p>"Describe them M'Carty," answered Fred. -"I will then," replied the boatman. "Mr. -Otway is just what a <i>raeal</i> gentlemen ought to <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> -be, neither too rough nor too smooth. He -knows his <i>distance</i> (meaning, I conclude, his -station), and never mounts above it, nor falls -below it; he is mild and good like a child, -though a <i>raisonable</i> man, that has a why for -every wherefore; but Mr. Bentley, Sir, never -got out of bed in his life, that it was'nt with the -left foot foremost, and so every thing goes contrary -with him."</p> - -<p>How admirable are these rough sketches by -ignorant beings of the lowest class! Oh the -exquisite beauty of Dinas! but I have made a -vow not to entangle you in bowers, nor plunge -you in the silver stream. This island is flat, -and of much greater extent than Innisfallen; -there is a pretty cottage upon it, where preparations -were made for our repast by those -amphibious animals who live indifferently on -land and water, and who were suddenly metamorphosed -into cooks, having previously performed -the parts of rowers, and next of fishermen. -They instantly split the salmon, and -having cut some stakes of arbutus, <i>spitted</i> the -fish, and fixed it in the ground, then lighting a <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> -fire all round, completed the operation with -culinary skill, and served up, in process of -time, the best dish of fish that I have tasted. -This mode of cooking has a peculiar name, and -a salmon dressed in the manner that I have -mentioned, is said to be <i>kibbobed</i>, the term, as -Mr. Oliphant informed us, applied to a favourite -food in Persia, which is made by splitting -and broiling fowls, as the fish was managed -here, and in the method to which we gave the -name of <i>spatchcock</i>—another coincidence between -that country and the Island of Saints. -When we had finished our rural banquet, and -again <i>filed off into</i> detachments, I found myself -pursuing a beautiful pathway among the trees, -along the border of the Lake, arm-in-arm with -Mr. Otway; and, when we had interchanged -some remarks on the loveliness of the surrounding -scenery, I begged him to give me a key to -some of the characters that composed our party.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Bentley is a very amusing person to -me," said I, "and his <i>running bass</i> of <i>ill</i> -humour so <i>good</i> humouredly expressed, forms an -anomaly in his manner exceedingly diverting. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> -Mrs. Fitzroy too is very agreeable, and the continual -skirmishing sustained with so much spirit -on her side, between that lady and Mr. Bentley, -is fully as pleasant as "Mathews at -Home;" but I am not enough acquainted to -understand her completely, and, as for young -Bentley, though I <i>like</i> him much, and <i>esteem</i> -him more, I am not familiar with his <i>style</i>, and -wish, of all things, for some light into his history."</p> - -<p>"You have set me a task," answered Mr. -Otway, "which would require more time to execute -than we have at present to spare; but you -are perfectly right in your conjecture, that they -are all three worth knowing <i>au fond</i> as characters -of peculiar though very different construction; -and I look upon every one of them as -such a well defined specimen of its genus, that -were I assorting mankind, as a cutler does knives -and scissors, I would stick my three friends on -the outside of my parcels, as indexes to the -contents within each paper of the several classes -to which they belong. Though the lady claims -precedence, I will tell you something of my old <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> -neighbour to begin with:—Mrs. Fitzroy made -a true hit to-day, when she said that she was -certain he had been disappointed in early life. -It was exactly the case. He began the world -with humble expectations, and was intended for -the profession of an attorney. Nature had -given him a strong and shrewd understanding, -set in one of those brazen scabbards that defy -the inroads of time and bad weather. He was -one of many children, and accustomed, as the -sailors say, to <i>roughing it</i>, through life. With a -body in which <i>nerves</i> were left out, and a mind -divested of any troublesome sensibilities, he -<i>tackled</i> to his calling, and had not fortune stepped -in between him and the necessity of working -for his bread, would not only have been one of -the most active of the busy fraternity with which -he was incorporated, but would also, I believe, -have set a praiseworthy example of upright conduct; -for I look upon him as a man of incorruptible -integrity. He had finished his <i>noviciate</i>, -and was just embarking in this minor department -of the law, with a respectable coadjutor, -when he began to think that a partner of <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> -the softer sex might be a proper <i>coping to the -wall</i> of his destiny; and accordingly he made -his proposals to a young lady of some personal -attraction, and such a convenient <i>modicum</i> of -wealth as, without rendering it presumptuous to -approach her, flattered his self-complacency -with the prospect of meriting, at least, an <i>ovation</i> -for his success. There was no <i>if</i> in the -calculation; a doubt never once insinuated itself -into his mind; not that he was a conceited or -overbearing young man by any means; but his -opinions, derived from vulgar sources, were -made up in bundles, endorsed, and stowed away -in the various compartments of his pericranium, -where they were alphabetically arranged like -papers in the pigeon-holes of his desk. On -looking at number thirteen, letter M, and taking -down the packet, he found it docketed 'Marriage;' -and on turning a page, the following -synopsis of contents may, we suppose, have presented -itself to his view:—'Eight and twenty; -fair time to look for a wife—marriage, convenient -for man—indispensable for woman—idle -to marry without money—a profession, may <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> -reasonably be reckoned against three or four -thousand pounds. Any thing over five feet -eight <i>tells</i> in the appearance of a man; figure of -more consequence than face, with a man <i>on his -preferment</i> as touching the other sex.' It was -not needful to seek farther into the documents -thus labelled. My worthy friend, perhaps, -heaved a natural sigh, as he involuntarily approached -his faithful mirror for the purpose of -smartening his dress, and read the mortifying -sentence of 'hard featured,' which, added to -the painful certainty that he wanted two inches -of standard measure, might have damped the -energies of our would-be Benedick, had it not -been that some unseen but friendly spirit so frequently -takes compassion on our humiliation, -and whispers comfort in extremity. Such consolatory -unction was poured into Bentley's -bosom in this trying moment. If his optics -rested on a snub nose, ferret eyes, and pock-marked -cheeks, his good genius breathed into -his ear the words 'quick, intelligent, droll;' and -when the fidelity of a two-foot rule forced the -unwelcome conviction of five feet six as the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> -utmost height to which truth would permit him -to aspire, the soothing sounds of 'well-built, -compact, genteel,' again fell on his organ of -hearing, as if sent from Heaven to encourage -his faultering purpose. The toilette ended, -Bentley took his well brushed hat, and catching -up a slight rattan, which not only gave a finish -to that <i>dapper</i> activity on which he meant to -rest the character of his appearance, to which -<i>grace</i> was unfortunately denied, but was likewise -useful in supplying an object <i>with</i> which to -twirl away an awkward feeling, should such -arise, our hero set out, and walked towards -Surgeon Sharp's, with an expression in his gait -which, if called upon to translate, you would -have interpreted by the words, 'secure, confiding, -and self-satisfied.' Alas! what vicissitudes -are incident to our mortal career!</p> - -<p>"Bentley returned to number one, Mortgage -Row, had a rapid vision of his chop-fallen -countenance in the large brass plate upon which -was engraved 'Deeds, Bentley and Co.;' rushed -to his apartment, exchanged his black stock for -an easier neck-cloth, and, whistling louder than <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> -he had ever been known to do before, took four -steps in every stride down stairs, and joined his -partner, a keen, sarcastic, but sensible man, -from whom I had the greater part of these particulars, -at dinner. But, as every man has his -evil, as well as his friendly genius, rumour has -spread to the winds that poor Bentley's thoughts -being unpleasantly occupied, he wished to drown -them, and swallowing a more liberal potation -than was his ordinary custom, of native spirit, -diluted with warm water, and seasoned with -lemon and sugar, experience confirmed the proverb -of '<i>in vino veritas</i>,' the half-muttered -sounds of 'rejected addresses,' and stimulated the -curiosity of Mr. Jacob Deeds. The distressing -confession distilled from Bentley's lips, and so -entirely did he lose all prudent controul over -his feelings, that the boy who passed to and fro -with the dinner apparatus, heard sufficient of -his misadventure to make a good foundation, -and splicing on from his own invention as much -as was requisite to complete the story, he published -his master's disgrace with the diligence of -a bell-man that evening. When Bentley went <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> -to court on the following day, he was attacked -on all sides, and to come to the <i>moral</i> of my -tale, this <i>debut</i> in <i>love affairs</i> gave the bias -which has influenced the life and character of -my honest neighbour from seven and twenty to -sixty years of age. Had <i>affection</i> been blighted, -I could not even <i>now</i> laugh at his expense, but -his pride alone was engaged. The prudential -aphorisms which he had learned of vulgar -parents, had established certain points as fixed -principles in his mind, not requiring farther -discussion. Amongst these, was the firm belief -that no young woman could possibly refuse a -tolerable match, and <i>partiality</i> having, perhaps, -represented the offer of his own hand as something -<i>beyond</i> the average of good luck in the -case of Miss Sharp, it was too much for his -philosophy to find such a flaw in a theory which -might have otherwise lasted to the end of his -days, and not only this vexation in the abstract, -but the particular sting of furnishing the contradiction -in his own person. He began with -rage, and finding no balsam in his wrath, he -turned on mankind, and revenged, by the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> -poignancy of his satire against the whole species, -this fancied wrong inflicted by a single individual. -In a short time after, an advertisement -appeared in the papers, setting forth the death -of a person who possessed considerable property, -and who dying intestate, and without any near -relations, the next of kin were called upon to -declare themselves. At the end of a suit which -occupied four or five years, my friend's claim -was substantiated, and he was put in peaceable -possession. The progress of time, which mellows -men and wine, together with the healing -which affluence brought to his pride, operated -a salutary change, not in kind but degree. -His mind had received a bent which no after -circumstances of his life had power to alter, but -every year has produced a softening effect, and -he is now, comparatively, smooth as oil. George, -who is the only son of a brother, who died a -few years ago, will probably inherit his uncle's -estate, if he can submit to the penalty of being -guided solely by his advice. Of this I doubt, -and, as I have a great regard for the young -man, I cannot help watching him with <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> -anxiety."</p> - -<p>I delight so much in Mr. Otway, that I -treasure all he says, and have given you his -account of old Bentley as nearly as possible, in -his own words; but just as I pressed him to tell -me all that he knew of the nephew, we were -joined by some stragglers of our party, amongst -whom was Bentley himself. The weather was -enchanting, the Lake dotted with boats, and we -perceived that our island was not sacred to us. -As we proceeded to explore the intricacies -which thickets of the finest evergreens concealed -from our view, several voices assailed us at once; -we saw a number of gay-looking people land -from a barge at a little distance; feathers waved -in the air, peals of laughter were driven by the -breeze, and we would gladly have retired, but -a sort of rude curiosity, common to fashionable -people, impelled the strangers to overtake and -see <i>what we were like.</i> Conceive my astonishment -on hearing my name pronounced, and, in -a moment, finding myself in the midst of a -group composed of Lady Matilda Murray, her -pretty daughters, her son Henry, Lord John <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> -Craven, young Lewellyn Spencer, and half a -score others, with whom I was slightly, or not -at all acquainted, and who might have been -mistaken for figures hired from a hair dresser's -shop window to swell Lady Matilda's train, if -it had not been for the uproar that they made. -Conscious, long ago, of the revolution which -has taken place in my mind, I never knew its -full extent till this meeting. Nay, I have often -felt at intervals that opportunity might again -betray me into my former participation in all -the follies which used to occupy without interesting -me; but Dinas island has finished my -conversion. The place seemed absolutely profaned -by the presence of this silly group of milliners' -dolls, and hair-dressers' dandies. It was -so incongruous a sight, that, forgetting how -lately I had been one of themselves; that I too -had lived in London's west end, and that steam -packets and post horses had not ceased to be -when <i>I</i> was deposited in the County of Kerry, -I wondered like an idiot how they came to Killarney; -and I believe looked as the savage of -Averon might have done, had he suddenly met <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> -the <i>beau monde</i> of Versailles in his forest. The -whole set gathered round me at once, and, totally -regardless of the company to which I was -attached, they overwhelmed me with questions -all talking together. Even Miss Murray, whom -we used to call the "sleeping beauty," seemed -inspired with animation, and became as obstreperous -as her sister. When the din had in -some degree subsided, Lady Matilda, in a languid -drawl, said, "I assure you, Mr. Howard, -you should not waste time in these wilds. Reports -are in circulation respecting some members -of your family; and delays are dangerous. The -prize may slip out of your sister's fingers if you -are tardy. I speak as a true friend, I do assure -you." "Aye, aye," added her ass of a son, -who was standing close to us, "bag the game -Howard as fast as you can, or i' faith it may -fly and leave you in the lurch."—Before I had -time to utter a syllable in reply to these impertinencies, -Miss Angelina Murray abruptly exclaimed, -"oh! but would it not be excellent if -Mr. Howard were to give us a sermon <i>al fresco</i>. -All the world is of opinion that he has turned <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> -Methodist, and it would be charming to tell of -this adventure when we go back. Do dear Mr. -Howard, you may make it as short as ever you -please; but <i>do</i> indulge us with a discourse. -Here I will send Lord John for my cloak; you -shall put it on, and fancy it a full suit of canonicals. -Pray do not disappoint your congregation."</p> - -<p>This wit, which appeared to be considered -quite attic, was received with bursts of laughter, -which intoxicating its vapid author, she would -have gone on plaguing me with her nonsense -till now, if I had not cleared my throat, and, -like a canary bird, conquered every other voice -by the vociferation of my own. At length I -was heard, and succeeded in telling Lady Matilda -that I had come like herself to see Killarney; -that like her too I intended returning to -town, and if arrived there before her Ladyship, -should be happy to execute her commands.</p> - -<p>"Thank you," said she, "I shall return myself -as fast as my delicate health will permit, and -shall be happy to take you back in my suite. -You seem to have got into a set of odd-looking <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> -people here. <i>Natives</i>, I conclude; and the -sooner you leave them the better. As to me, I -never was so weary in my life; and am so -frightened too, since I came into this barbarous -country, that I do not attempt to sleep, though -I make two of the servants sit up every night -with loaded arms to repel an attack. It is more -than my nerves can endure; and I fear that I -have already suffered in a greater degree than I -am aware of."</p> - -<p>"Are you not pleased with this scenery," said -I, "Lady Matilda?" turning a deaf ear to absurdities -which I could not answer: "Killarney -is the only place with which, after hearing such -encomiums as all people of taste lavish upon its -exquisite beauty, I have not been disappointed; -and the lower Lake is nothing, I am told, in -comparison of what we have to see." "<i>I</i> shall -see no more, I promise you," replied <i>Miladi</i>; -"I have had enough of this sort of thing. The air -is too damp—it disagrees with me; and besides, -the object is achieved. <i>We have been at Killarney</i>, -and may pass our travelling examination. -This sort of thing is vastly tiresome, and too <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> -fatiguing for my nerves. Then '<i>le jeu ne vaut -pas la chandelle</i>, "I dread the Trosach, but I -suppose that we must make a tour in Scotland, -Lord John is so bent upon it; and really three -days more in this horrible place would kill me."</p> - -<p>Joyful to my ear were the sounds of parting; -and having extricated myself, I scarcely know -how, from this "unreal mockery," I took my -leave, with a promise to call upon her Ladyship, -and, bidding adieu to the rest of her <i>Court</i>, I -bounded over every obstacle of rock or brush-wood, -that separated me from my own party, -and never felt the triumph of nature and good -sense to be so complete as when I regained their -society, and listened once more to their refreshing -conversation. We were not molested any -farther. I saw some of Lady Matilda's attendant -swains yawn and stretch their arms, as I -passed them by; and it was not long before we -discovered them re-embarked, with cloaks spread -across their knees, as a substitute for tables, and -engaged in two regular matches at cards, while -their boat returned towards Ross' Castle.</p> - -<p><i>We</i> lingered untired till the moon rose upon <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> -the water, and never will the impression of that -evening be erased from my imagination. We -rowed round Dinas, we coasted Glena, and -again took a view of Innisfallen wrapped in -shadows. We had two bugles on board, and -were so fortunate as to secure a man of the -name of Spillane, who is a capital performer, -for our principal musician. Nothing could be -more rapturous than the sensations I experienced -when M'Carty, whose fine athletic form, as -he sweeps the oar, is worthy of the canvass, called -to Spillane and his brother bugler, saying, -"Come, my hearties, the oars are flagging—blast -up a tune that will make the boat walk of -herself." No sooner had the word been given, -than the inspiring air of Stuart memory, called -"Who'll be King but Charley?" was admirably -played. The effect was magical. The sinews -that had been flaccid before, from heat and toil, -seemed braced afresh. The men were silent—sat -erect—and appeared endowed with new -powers. No longer a set of slouching boors, -mumbling each his quid of tobacco, which the -peasants here chew as the Turks do opium <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> -or beetle nut, our boatmen rose in dignity as -they yielded to the talismanic influence of a -strain replete with the expression of spirit and -pathos, that <i>rainbow</i> character of music, so -deeply interesting, and of which the Irish are so -sensible, that it seems to speak directly to their -hearts, in a language all their own. The boat -really <i>did</i> appear, as M'Carty said, "to walk of -herself" over the Lake, so long, so smooth, so -vigorous, was the pull, and such perfect time -did the rowers observe; but Spillane's power of -enchantment was not confined to them. The -whole band partook of the emotion which he -excited. My dear aunt turned her face towards -the dark wooded side of Glena, and rivers of -gentle tears were silently mingled with the -waves below. Mrs. Fitzroy stood up, fired, as -she afterwards said, with such enthusiasm, that, -like Semiramis of antient memory, she could in -that moment have placed herself at the head of -a warlike host, and led them on to death or victory. -She absolutely looked pale with the intenseness -of sublime sensation. Russell was, as -usual, in a state of convulsion; and all were <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> -silent, till, actuated by an impulse compounded -of all the varied sensibilities of those around me, -I gave utterance to a passing wish that I was -Charles-Edward. "And <i>I</i> Flora M'Donald!" -exclaimed dear little Fanny; who seemed delighted -at having her tongue untied, and finding -a precedent in my rapture for expressing -her own—but without the most distant idea of -paying me a compliment, by coupling her destiny -with mine. <i>Her</i> wish had, in fact, been -formed without reference to me; and, had I -said anything else than what I did say, it would -have equally unlocked Fanny's lips, who longed -to speak, but who was withheld by a native modesty, -which is inseparable even from her moments -of greatest excitement, from being the -<i>first</i> to do so. It was <i>her</i> turn now to govern -our sympathies. She had touched a new spring, -and many a gay smile shone through the tears -that had been flowing. Many a merry peal of -hearty laughter brought us again into cheerful -communion. "Miss Fanny Douglas," said Russell, -"I envy Howard, who has received so explicit -a declaration of your kind feelings towards <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> -him." Fanny looked <i>blank</i> for a second or two -before she caught his meaning, so <i>single</i> had -been the thought that occupied her mind when -she spoke—but seizing on the new idea presented, -she blushed violently, <i>only</i> because it <i>was</i> -new; and with that exquisite <i>naïveté</i> which is -worth all the treasures of Golconda, she hastily -answered, "Indeed, no: I did not think of any -one except my favourite Pretender alone; but -that makes little difference, for my cousin knows -perfectly well that whatever Flora could accomplish -for Charles-Edward I should desire to perform -for Arthur, if he stood in need of my -assistance."</p> - -<p>I must now hurry you to the landing-place, -transport you from thence to the inn, dispatch -supper, and distribute the group into their several -apartments. Russell contrived, as I squeezed -into mine, which is hardly large enough to turn -about in, to impart his secret to the faithful -<i>porches</i> of mine ear; and I have it now from his -own confession, that he is in the list of <i>killed -and wounded</i>. I asked whether he had any reason -to expect reciprocity of disposition, but he <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> -said no. "I <i>hope,</i> but I certainly have no reason -to <i>expect</i>. These charming Douglasses love -each other so much that it is very difficult to -penetrate their sentiments towards strangers. -Girls in general think little of mothers, except -as necessary appendages. A <i>chaperone</i> is indispensable, -and therefore young ladies tolerate -their mammas in that character; but these cousins -of yours seem to idolize their parent, and to -be almost absorbed in studying her countenance, -and reading every thought as it arises in her -soul." Annesley's entrance interrupted our dialogue, -which ended for the present; and the -next morning saw us gliding over the calm expanse -which we had traversed the day before, to -visit a new region, of such perfection as, if I had -not forsworn all description, would puzzle me to -find words in which to clothe it. Traits and -touches—mere memoranda—are all that I -shall give you. Of the first, I must relate one -which is worthy of your moral sketch-book. -There is a narrow strait, of exquisite beauty, -dividing the upper from the lower lake, which, -from the shelving nature of the ground, assumes <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> -somewhat the appearance of a rapid. At this -place it is customary for the boatmen to quit -their boats, which are dragged up by main force -to a joyous cry, which they raise in concert, as -American sailors do in heaving the anchor. It -is a particularly cheerful sound, and pleasing -from the measured cadence in which it is given. -While the boatmen, who strip off their shoes -and stockings, jump into the water, and ranging -themselves two and two, perform this feat, -the company are always landed, and pursue a -winding path on the verge of the water, till the -boat is drawn into the lake above, and they are -ushered into that aquatic paradise.</p> - -<p>On the night preceding this day, a poor fellow -had reached this narrow pass from the -upper country in a tiny skiff. A sudden gust, -which frequently occurs in this amphitheatre of -mountains, hurried him so irresistibly down the -watery descent that his little bark was overset, -and no human being living near the spot, his -voice was not heard;—unable to swim, he was -drowned, and his lifeless corse was extricated in -the morning from a bed of arbutus, which lay <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> -so softly on the surface of the lake that it appeared -more like a Naiad's couch than the bier -of poor Florence O'Neil. Our men were none -of them related to him. They only knew who -he was, and that he was unfortunate. When -we reached this little gorge, we were told to prepare -for landing, and M'Carty More standing -up in the boat, poising his oar with graceful ease, -and making no more of its weight than if it had -been a straw, addressed himself to us all, and -said, "Ladies and Gentlemen, I hope that your -honours will not take it amiss if we draw up the -boat silent and quiet, like the poor fellow himself -that lay here this morning." So saying, he -and his comrades, without uttering a sound, -pulled our bark forward in the profoundest stillness; -thus paying a tribute of delicate feeling to -the manes of a departed brother, which would -have adorned a far higher class in life. We -were all affected by this incident, which was -quickly changed from a merely sentimental occurrence -into one of practical compassion and -usefulness, by a proposal from my aunt, that the -same spot which had in the former moment <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> -been dedicated to remembrance of the dead, -should now be marked by tender care for the -living. "Here is my subscription," said she, -"and when we have made up a little sum for -the widow and orphans of poor Florence, -M'Carty More, if you please, shall have the -pleasure of bestowing it." Joy lit up the countenances -which had been just before honestly -expressive of sadness, and showers of choicest -blessings were lavished on the mover of this -benevolent project. M'Carty's thanks were as -warm, as if he had been made rich himself; and -when Russell good humouredly said to him, "I -suppose that you are flattered, by being chosen -to convey glad tidings to the poor woman and -her children, and pleased that Mrs. Douglas -should put such confidence in you;" his noble -reply was, "No your honour. The lady would -not have mistrusted <i>any</i> of us; we may all be -bad enough, but there is not a man in the boat, -I'll be bound to say, would rob the widow. -Every one of these lads, sir, gave half a crown -this morning to bury poor O'Neil, and while -they had a potato themselves they would not <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> -<i>begrudge</i> the half of it to her that's left desolate."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Fitzroy gave a searching look, and -shook her head at old Bentley, who growled -under his breath, but for <i>once</i> did not express -his scepticism in words. We now entered the -upper lake, and all language fails to do justice -here.</p> - -<p>Do you remember the happy valley of Abyssinia, -described in Rasselas? Here is in water -what that was in land. So completely are you -surrounded with the magnificent range of mountains -which inclose this little world of beauty, -that you seem as if separated at once from all -that is external to it. You perceive no means -of either egress or ingress, and but for the recollection -of having entered by that narrow pass -which I have described, might fancy yourself let -down from the skies. This lake is sprinkled -over thickly with islands, every one of which -would make a picture in itself. These are covered -with the most luxuriant evergreens, the -glossy brightness of which might warrant a belief -(were fairies as efficient personages as in the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> -"olden time") that they had been under water -till your approach, and rose at that moment into -air, "dripping odours" in all the freshness of a -new creation. While we gazed in astonishment -at the scene before us, silence again took up her -sceptre, and no one appeared willing to disturb -her reign.</p> - -<p>I cannot with accuracy describe any feelings -save my own, though I think I could read several -minds amid the group; but for myself, I felt -actually raised above this nether sphere, and as -if I was holding communion with Deity, in this -the first hour of my life in which I beheld his -perfect workmanship, unspoiled by the finger of -man. I was in a <i>trance</i>, and should have lost -every remembrance that human creatures surrounded -me, had not M'Carty More, in a half -whisper directed to Frederick, who wins every -heart which was not already his own, interrupted -my musings by saying, "Mr. Douglas, I come -from the rightful kings of this place, and though -I am a poor man now, I can make <i>you</i> king, sir, -of one of these <i>islands</i>, and, with the help o'God, -you <i>shall</i> be king of it sure enough: pull my <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> -hearties for M'Carty More's Island."</p> - -<p>We were awakened from our reverie. The -tear drops were brushed from aunt Douglas's -eye. Mrs. Fitzroy's cheek, which blanches with -emotion, resumed its colour. Emily and Charlotte, -whose countenances are the most pelucid, -mirrors of all that passes within, were illuminated -by Frederick's approaching triumph, and -Fanny's ready joy sparkled so brightly in her -eyes, as, in a poet's fancy at least, to make the -rippling of the lake, while our bark shot nimbly -through its gentle bosom, shine with more dancing -radiance than the sun alone could have imparted. -Now followed a scene of mock heroic, -amusing from the gravity with which it was conducted, -and curious from the mixture of knowledge -and ignorance, of law and fiction, which -it involved. We were marshalled by M'Carty -in a circle, on this beautiful <i>spangle</i> of earth, -the sovereignty of which was to be bestowed -upon our youthful chief. Frederick was placed -in the midst; a sod was cut from the turf, and -an arbutus twig severed from the shrubs which -hung over our heads. With these insignia of <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> -feudal investiture, M'Carty approached the -monarch who was to be, and kneeling on one -knee presented <i>seizin</i> of his dominions, with an -appropriate enumeration in correct Latin, of the -rights and royalties intended to be conveyed by -this Imperial grant, the boatmen forming a -semicircle exterior to the ring already mentioned. -When Frederick received the symbols of his -enfeoffment with a graceful bow, a shout from -the men proclaimed the act of acceptance; and -next followed the anointing, which was <i>here</i> performed -with "mountain dew," alias whiskey, -which I suspect M'Carty and his fellows prefer -on such occasions to oil. Two or three bottles -of this Irish usquebaugh were brought from the -boat, one of them was dashed upon a rock, and -the name of "Frederick's Island," pronounced -by M'Carty, who enacted the part of high-priest. -The next step was to quaff a libation -to the honour of the new monarch, in -which part of the ceremony he was obliged to -join; and after drinking to the health and -happiness of the crew, Fred. was installed, -desired to take his seat on the rude throne <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> -prepared by spirituous unction for his accommodation, -and to exercise his first act of authority, -in arresting the arm of Russell, who was busily -employed in cutting a fine walking-stick of arbutus.</p> - -<p>The party were again seated in their boat, -when old Bentley repaid Mrs. Fitzroy's piercing -look, of which I told you, <i>in kind</i>, and with his -<i>grimmest</i> expression of discontent, turned to her, -with, "<i>There</i> madam! <i>There</i> are cunning rascals -for you! Those scoundrels will elect a king -from every boat-load of blockheads that they -bring to the upper lake during the season, and -will wheedle money out of the <i>royal</i> pocket, and -guzzle whiskey at the general cost, till they have -not an eye left in their heads." How Mrs. Fitzroy -would have turned the edge of old Bentley's -ire if she had been disengaged, I cannot tell, -but she was listening with so much interest to -Domine, that Bentley's tirade passed over her -mind, and seemed to be shaken from it like -"dew drops from the lion's mane," while she -gave her attention to Mr. Oliphant, who is really -a mine of knowledge, and who possesses the art <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> -of rendering it always pleasing, by his unaffected -simple manner, the accuracy of his information, -and the tact with which he imparts it.</p> - -<p>The <i>investiture</i> which we had just witnessed, -called forth an agreeable and instructive account -of consecration in all its varieties of mode, from -the field of Luz mentioned in the 28th chapter -of Genesis, to the stone alluded to in the -Odyssey, on which Neleus sat "equal in counsel -to the Gods." Pope, I remember, translated -this passage in four lines, which I gave to Mrs. -Fitzroy, in pencil on a scrap of paper, as Domine -paused on his tide of learned lore:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poem"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">"The old man early rose, walk'd forth and sat</div> -<div class="line">On polished stone, before his palace gate;</div> -<div class="line">With unguent smooth, the lucid marble shone,</div> -<div class="line">Where ancient Neleus sat, a rustic throne."</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>From thence Mr. Oliphant adverted to the -superstitious accounts of the Baithylia, or consecrated -stones of Phoenicia mentioned in <i>Sanchoniatho</i>, -and a great deal more very pleasantly -communicated, which you shall have in my journal, -but not <i>here</i>. I must, however, give you -the history of the stone which you and I looked <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> -at not long ago, in Westminster Abbey. It -lies, you may recollect, under the old chair on -which the Kings of England are crowned in the -Chapel of Edward the First, and a Scotchman -who was standing by when you and I were there -took the whole credit of this sacred relique to -himself, declaring that it was originally a supernatural -gift to his country, and had a prophecy -attached to it of the highest importance to the -Caledonians. It was called "<i>Ni fallit Fatum</i>," -and gave rise to the verses which are translated -into English thus:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poem"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">"Or Fate's deceived, or Heaven decrees in vain,</div> -<div class="line">Or where they find this stone the Scots shall reign."</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>But it seems that this precious morsel of antiquity, -said to be the pillow of Jacob, on which -he laid his head, when he slept on the plain of -Luz, and dreamed of the ladder that reached -to the skies, was really wrested from Ireland -(whither it had travelled from its original site, -first to Jerusalem, from thence into Spain, and -thence again into this country, where it lay -treasured as it deserved to be, in the great Cathedral <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> -on the rock of Cashel) by Fergus the -First of Scotland, who conveyed it to Scone, -and on it the Scottish Kings were always -placed to be crowned, till Edward the First -transported this "Patriarchal bolster" to Westminster, -where it is still preserved with veneration, -not unmixed perhaps with a certain dread -of seeing the dynasty pass away, should the stone -set out again upon a <i>tour</i>, as the marriage of -Margaret of Scotland into the Royal Family of -England, gave colour to the fidelity of that prophecy -to which I have alluded, when this bone -of contention quitted its Northern abode.</p> - -<p>If Domine had not soon come to the end of -his story, we should probably have been out -all night in the lakes, for so intense was the -curiosity of M'Carty and his myrmidons to devour -every syllable of the tale, that they lay -upon their oars, and appeared in danger of being -metamorphosed into images of stone themselves, -such fixed attention did they bestow upon -a legend which I am certain they quickly made -their own.</p> - -<p>To avoid producing a dearth of paper at <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> -Tralee, whence I procured my last supply, I -shall now pack you up, and placing you in the -car of a balloon, permit you no longer to loiter -your happy hours amid scenes of enchantment. -You must neither land on Ronayve's Island, nor -accompany me to Fure Lake, nor wander by -moonlight through the Abbey of Muccruss, nor -toil to the top of the eagle's nest, nor visit Dunlow-gap, -Mangerton punch-bowl, nor any other -spot in this region of fascination. Were I to -indulge your passion for romance, and allow -you to linger any longer at Killarney, I should -fear your becoming a hermit, and requesting -Lord Kenmare's permission to build a cell, in -which the remainder of your days would be dedicated -to solitude and contemplation. Take -then your bird's-eye view of the map, as it lies -spread beneath you; return to your inn; with -a mind torn between love and curiosity, quit -the society of our charming female companions, -leaving them under the care of Messieurs Otway, -Oliphant, and Bentley senior, descend from -your balloon, mount a rough Kerry poney, and -if you can ride like a Tartar through the desert, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> -you may join Russell, Annesley, Frederick, -Bentley <i>secundus</i>, and your humble servant, in -a two day's trip over Kenmare mountain, the -Priest's leap, and through Neddeen to Bantry. -Oh Glengariffe, surpassing Glengariffe! thou -"brightest gem of the Western wave," in what -words am I to paint thee?</p> - -<p>This transcendent spot was the limit of our -excursion, and how can I, in general terms, -more aptly sum up its attractions than in telling -you, that <i>reeking</i>, as we were, from Killarney, -the matchless scenery of which was still vibrating -on every retina, shadowed in our imaginations -and resting in the hearts of all our party, who -felt as if nature was reposing, admiration -drained to its dregs, and language run out, by -all that we had been called upon to see, think, -and feel, so recently, Glengariffe strung each -palsied nerve anew. We rose "like giants refreshed -with wine," and experienced that delight -which only the highest excitement of -mental or physical excellence occasionally produces, -namely a consciousness of power within -ourselves, of which, till thus extraordinarily elicited, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> -we do not dream of being in possession. -Perhaps this is one of the most pleasurable feelings -of the human mind, and we now enjoyed it -rapturously, surprising our own ears with the -awakened flow of eloquence, poured out from -fountains which might have been supposed already -exhausted; and admiring beauties in all -around, the greatest charm of which, though -sometimes undiscerned, is the vivid reflection -from our own souls. But you must only glance -your eye along that blue expanse, and catch a -hasty glimpse of that splendid bay, where the -concentrated powers of France, while menacing -destruction, were themselves destroyed. Before -we regain our inn, and rejoin our friends, -you must pause for a moment with me in a -scene which, from its singularity, delayed our -retrograde progress.</p> - -<p>Having mounted our shaggy steeds, we turned -our faces, like Sir Bertram, "to the wolds," -and conceitedly imagined ourselves able to retrace, -unassisted, the homeward path; but we -were mistaken; and after proceeding for sometime -without meeting a living creature of whom <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> -to ask the way, we at length espied a thing -scarcely human, naked almost to the hips, and -trotting at a quick, equal pace, holding a staff -horizontally in both hands, and having a tattered -weather-beaten bag that looked like an -old Spanish wine skin, strapped upon his back.</p> - -<p>"Who, and what are you?" exclaimed Russel.</p> - -<p>This was not a conciliating address, and accordingly -it was rudely answered: "May be as -good as yourself. I am a post; and my father -was a post before me."</p> - -<p>This letter-carrier for so we interpreted him -to be, never relaxed his steady trot, nor condescended -to be angry. Calm contempt appeared -to be the feeling which dictated his reply; -and he would have passed on his way with-deigning -to look behind him, if Frederick had -not said, in his cheerful manner, "My good -fellow, I know that you are the very man to tell -us how we shall get into the track that leads -over the mountain to Killarney, for I have lost -my way, and my friends here are strangers?"</p> - -<p>The youth immediately became a <i>poste restante</i>, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> -and gazing benignantly on Frederick, -setting his voice to a very different modulation -from that in which he first spoke and resting -his chin on the staff which he now stuck into -the ground, he replied, "Why then, indeed, -I'd do more than that for ye. Go down till -you see the smoke, then turn to the left and -face north'ards; turn again to the west, and -you'll find a track that will bring you out at -the kiln by a short cut, and then you can't miss -your way any more, but will get down into the -<i>illegant</i> new road, along the upper lake which is -so lonesome, and smothered in trees, that you -might be <i>murthered</i> there in all aise, and pitched -over into the lake, and no one know what become -of you during ash nor oak."</p> - -<p>"And pray," said Frederick, "how am I -to find out north and west in this strange -place."</p> - -<p>"Then sure, your honour, I suppose, isn't -such a poor scholar as that you wouldn't know -very well by the sun."</p> - -<p>Fred. gave the poor fellow a shilling, and encouraged -with this agreeable notice, of the perfect <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> -<i>convenience</i> with which we could be "<i>murthered</i>," -we pursued our route; and found the -instructions which he had received, accurate -to a tittle. The smoke, which was the first -finger-post in the journey, brought us into a -deep ravine, wild, barren, and silent as the -grave, yet judging by the wreaths that seemed -to be sent up from numerous chimnies that were -invisible, populous of human life. We looked -for habitations but there was not a single roof to -be seen, nor an individual to be met with. Curiosity -prompted us to approach nearer to this -uncommon defile; and here we found numbers -of poor creatures, who, terrified at the sound of -so many horses' feet, and dreading a visit from -the police, were employed in hastily extinguishing -their fires. We speedily tranquillized their -minds, and then received that generous welcome -and hospitality which the poorest sons -and daughters of Erin, never fail to extend to -the stranger.</p> - -<p>To be a <i>stranger</i>, far from exciting suspicion -here, is a free passport to the best which these -kind people possess. Whiskey was all which <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> -these had to offer, for this was a little colony of -illicit distillers. We tasted their <i>pottein</i> (their -name here for the purest spirit) to oblige our -hosts, and scattering a few pieces of silver -amongst them, turned to the left, then to the -north, made for the kiln, and were just descending -from the moor, into something resembling -a road, when a figure stalking along the -horizon, of apparently gigantic stature, arrested -our attention; we drew up, and as he -<i>neared</i> us, we beheld indeed a prodigious form -of at least six feet in height, black as Erebus, -skin, clothes, and all; and armed with a pole of -fully ten feet in length, terminated by an immense -bush of holly. Warned by the former -incivility which he had excited, Russell now -thought proper to leave all enquiries to Frederick, -who with a kind, "good morrow my lad," -begged to know where this Patagonian was -going, and why so accoutered?</p> - -<p>"Plase your honour," answered the spectre, -"I am the sweep o'the mountains, and I'm -going yander to clane some chimblies for the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> -people."</p> - -<p>What grotesque habits, and how extra-ordinary -the mixture in this country of barbarism -and civilization!</p> - -<p>Arrived at length, we found all the pleasure -of joining such a circle as we had left behind, -doubled by our short absence.</p> - -<p>An excursion such as this to Killarney, -brings the people who are included in it, so informally -and so constantly together as to preclude -the possibility, I should think, of neutral -feelings at parting. This is a strong proof, one -would imagine, that a state of life mid-way between -poverty and riches is the surest soil of -domestic felicity. Rise <i>above</i> this middle standard, -and you soar beyond the want of sympathy, -and owe your principal gratifications, it -may be, to fortune alone. Fall <i>below</i> the medium, -and the anxieties of life press so painfully -as to annihilate, from an opposite cause, that dependence -on each other, which constitutes the -perfection of human happiness.</p> - -<p>Falkland, did you ever expect to hear these <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> -sentiments from your friend Arthur Howard?</p> - -<p>We had now passed ten days in an intercourse -so intimate, so intellectual, the tastes, -the faculties, of each individual had been -brought into such activity, that, like the manufacturers -of soda water who compress three or -four atmospheres into a pint bottle, we seemed -to have condensed into one short fortnight, -more solid enjoyment of life, than would eke out -half a century in the vapid inanity of fashionable -routine. During this blissful dream, we -had known nothing of factitious wants, nor -artificial accommodations. There was a simplicity, -a reality in our pleasures which deluded -us into forgetfulness that the "sweetest are still -the fleetest," because they seemed so natural -that one did not see <i>why</i> they were to cease; -and when the last evening actually arrived, it -came with a shock as dreadful, as if entirely unexpected. -The fastidiousness of former habits -had vanished. Our apartments were large, and -numerous enough, our cold dinners were eaten -with appetite. We had felt no blank, and we -desired no accession to our comforts. Such <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> -are the charms of <i>that</i> society which I reviled, -because I did not comprehend, and was unable -at first to appreciate its value. Alas! I know -it now too well; and yet I am better off than -my neighbours. I may hope to pass much of -my time with the Douglas family, while poor -Russell and Annesley, who are certainly minus -a heart each, may never see them again. The -former will not leave Glenalta, for which place -we set out to-morrow without trying his fate. -A few short months ago, and I should have ridiculed -the idea of Russell's being refused by -one of my country cousins. Handsome, gay, -musical, sought after, with fair prospects, and -good connections, that Russell could not command -any possible Miss Douglas, or Miss any -thing else, possessing no more than five or six -thousand pounds, was I confess what never occurred -to me as matter of doubt. I now feel -apprehensions that my friend may suffer disappointment, -as with all the penetration which I -can exercise, I perceive nothing in Charlotte's -manner beyond easy kindness and polite attention.</p> - -<p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span></p> - -<p>Annesley is not a free agent: <i>his</i> views are -lost in clouds; and should little Kepple live to -be of age, his father may levy fines, and cut -off the entail which will otherwise give the estate -of Compton to Frank, who will have little or -nothing, except in this event, and he will therefore -never betray his feelings towards Emily. -Perhaps he may hope that in absence they will -wear away; but were this not the case, Annesley -has great self-command, and would suffer -much rather than commit himself. I know too -that he has pride, which would ill brook defeat, -and in his present circumstances he could not -expect to be successful.</p> - -<p>I think that I can perceive a knitting of your -brow, and can also tell the cause of it. I anticipate -your question, and reply, before it is -asked, No, there is not the slightest tendency -in my cousin's manner indicating that Annesley's -departure will leave a single pang in her -breast. Emily is free as the air of her mountains; -so let your forehead resume its unruffled serenity.</p> - -<p>How various were the feelings of the individuals <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> -that composed our party, and how different -from those which accompanied us when -we left that place a fortnight ago. In my -aunt's face I read the word <i>home</i> written in every -direction. Spite of all her efforts to be cheerful, -suppressed pain sat on every feature during -her stay at Killarney; and spite of all the natural -glow which beamed in the countenances of -her children amid the pure pleasures of that enchanting -scene, their mother's looks so far -alloyed their happiness as to make them sometimes -long for return on <i>her</i> account, and therefore -on their own. Mr. Otway, too, retraced -the road to Lisfarne with calm satisfaction; -but for the younger members of the group -(and I believe that I may also include Mrs. -Fitzroy) the prospect of a <i>break-up</i>, the certainty -of parting, and the uncertainty of meeting -again, corroded every heart.</p> - -<p>We reached Glenalta in a beautiful sun-set, -but the letters which awaited our return have so -completely absorbed my thoughts, that I pass -over sufficient materials, <i>at our</i> rate of corresponding, -to furnish half a quire of paper, and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> -hasten to say that a few lines from Louisa bring -me the disagreeable intelligence that I have -offended my mother, who desires me not to -go to town, but to set out directly for the Continent -and join you. This I shall only do in -case of finding that my presence in London is of -no use; and thither I must fly. Mrs. Fitzroy -offers me a seat in her caleche if I remain here -another week; and as there is nothing to prevent -this short delay, I have arranged to be her -companion. Russell and Annesley leave this in -two days, and you will probably meet them ere -long; at all events they will take care that this -packet reaches you in safety. I have inclosed -for your amusement the letter to which Mr. -Otway alluded at Glena, when the conversation -between Mrs. Fitzroy and old Bentley -induced him to mention having lately received -it. Mrs. Fitzroy desired a copy, and permits -me to send it to you, provided that you return -it whenever you have an opportunity. I inclose -you also Louisa's letter.</p> - -<p>You shall hear from me after I reach Grosvenor-square, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> -and will not envy my feelings -in the interim.</p> - -<p>Adieu,my dear Falkland!</p> - -<p class="right"> -<span class="padding-right4">I am ever your affectionate,</span><br /> -<span class="smcap padding-right2">Arthur Howard.</span><br /> -</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span></p> - -<h2>LETTER XIX.</h2> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Miss Howard to A. Howard, Esq.</span></p> - - -<p>(<i>Inclosed in the preceding.</i>)</p> - - -<p> -My dear Arthur, -</p> - -<p>Your letter has made me gloomy, and my -mother's temper does not improve my spirits: -she is very angry with you, and so offended by -the style of your remarks on Adelaide's approaching -marriage, that so far from wishing -your presence, I am commissioned to say, it -is my mother's express desire that you should -not come to town till the ceremony is over. -As you are not yet <i>quite</i> of age, you could -not be of any absolute use at present; and -she will contrive, upon the good faith of your -assistance when you are enabled to give your -aid, to supply the immediate necessity for -money by borrowing on bond. This is her -message; but as her anxiety that you should <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> -quit your present situation is fully equal to -her wish that you should not come here, she -would be glad if you were to <i>go</i> to the Continent; -and as your friend Falkland is somewhere -in Italy, and his company may be an inducement -to <i>immediate</i> arrangements, she has -no objection to your joining him and his -tutor wherever they may be. It is my mother's -design to hasten the marriage as quickly -as possible. She means to inform Crayton -that you have seriously hurt your leg, which -will be sufficient excuse for your non-appearance; -and should he ever discover that you -have left Glenalta to go abroad while it might -be supposed that you could not stir from your -sofa, it will be easy to make out a new <i>version</i>; -or if the wedding is <i>over</i>, as soon as we hope -that it <i>will</i> be, we shall not care much about a -slight inconsistency which will not signify a -<i>rush</i> when the deed is done.</p> - -<p>You look grave, but really it cannot be -helped. Nothing could be worse than any interruption -to the nuptials of Clayton and Adelaide; -it must not be; and though I <i>believe</i> him <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> -to be a gambler, and <i>know</i> him to be a dunce, -our sister is willing to wear his coronet, and excuse -his errors and deficiencies. For myself, I am -not sorry that the bustle of coachmakers, jewellers, -milliners, &c. in which we are involved, prevents -my having time to <i>think</i> much, for I am -low, and quite out of humour. What you say -of the world is true enough, and no one feels -<i>how</i> true except he is carried round like a fly -upon its wheel; but to stand still is worse: it -makes one's head giddy to pause; and the country -after all is so flat, so utterly devoid of interest, -that tiresome as I <i>confess</i> a London life -to be, any thing is better than the cobwebs of retirement. -A rural bower sets one to sleep, even -in imagination, and the only part of the system -kept <i>alive</i> in retreat is the muscular apparatus -by which we yawn.</p> - -<p>If I could find out any "Royal road" to happiness, -I should like to cut many of my acquaintances; -but till I do, they must be endured, -idle and silly as they are.</p> - -<p>Here comes a man with Ady's diamonds, and -I am called to council. I will write a line to Paris, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> -<i>poste restante</i>; so as you will probably make at -once for the French capital, as a central point; -you will there receive intelligence of <i>our advancement</i> -to <i>the peerage</i>. I will send you the -newspapers that you may see how the paragraph -<i>runs</i>. Old Lord Hawkston, being our hundred -and fiftieth cousin, <i>La Madre</i> applies to him to -act your part in giving the bride away.</p> - -<p class="right"> -<span class="padding-right4">Called again. Coming! coming!</span><br /> -<span class="padding-right3">Yours, ever affectionately,</span><br /> -<span class="smcap padding-right2">L. Howard.</span><br /> -</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - -<p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span></p> - -<h2>LETTER XX.</h2> - -<p class="center">[Alluded to by Mr. Otway, addressed to him, and inclosed to -Charles Falkland.]</p> - -<p> -My dear Friend, -</p> - -<p>I hasten to obey your injunctions, and give -you some account of your amiable kinswoman, -Clara Browne. On reaching York, I found a -letter from her so earnestly praying me to visit -at her house, and so warmly expressive of her -wishes to make, as she kindly called me, "one -of her oldest and most valued friends" acquainted -with her husband, that I prepared as -soon as I could to accept the invitation, and -set out for Stockton. I found Clara the picture -of contentment, and surrounded by all the substantial -comforts and rational elegancies of life. -Nothing could exceed the openness and affection -with which she received me; and I was welcomed -by Mr. Browne in such a manner as to assure <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> -me, in the most gratifying language, that I was -not a stranger to him. In a few days after my -arrival at his house, a letter on urgent business -required his presence in a distant part of the -country; and I yielded to the united entreaties -of my two friends that I would take care of -Clara till his return in two days from D——.</p> - -<p>Clara and her sister were now my only companions; -and upon the first opportunity which -occurred in a <i>tête-à-tête</i> walk, the former demanded -of me a full, free, and candid declaration -of my opinion respecting the object of her -choice. I told her truly that I liked her husband -extremely, and congratulated her with all -my heart on having united herself to a man of -high principle and worth; adding, that the suavity -of his temper, mildness of his manners, and -polite acquaintance with the world, attracted my -admiration as sincerely as the graver qualities -of his mind commanded my esteem and respect.</p> - -<p>"Clara," said I, "you know that I was always -a plain man, and as I am an old fellow, too, -and used to abuse your fastidiousness in days -of yore, I have the more pleasure in praising <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> -now the sensible, excellent person with whom -you have allied yourself. There <i>was</i> a time -when nothing short of a galaxy of light, a constellation -of genius and talent, would have satisfied -you. I often told you then that you -would one day or other discover your mistake, -and I hoped not experimentally. I told you that -good sense and a sweet disposition were of more -value than all the <i>brilliants</i> upon which you set -so high a price. May I not now wish to hear -from your own lips that you have proved the -truth of my doctrine?"</p> - -<p>"Yes," answered Clara, "I glory in my renunciation -of the follies which marked my -youth; and, as dear Edward Otway will take -the same interest that you do in my change, I -shall egotize a little, and through you make confession -to him of the motives which produced -it. You remember, both of you, how I worshipped -intellect, and if I am not too insignificant -to have made so lasting an impression, -you may recollect the silly energy with which I -used to descant on moral virtue, and say that, -like air and water, it was certainly indispensably <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> -necessary, but so common—so entirely a -thing <i>of course</i>, that it slipped out of calculation, -and only served as a vehicle for the ingredients -of happiness, without ever presuming to be an -item in the recipe. In short, all the truly valuable -parts of human character were mere <i>negatives</i> -in my flippant creed, while to genius, -intellect, and splendid abilities, did I hold -mankind to be indebted for whatever exalts -the human species. Under this delusion I -passed my early years, that period of life -which the French call "<i>La premiere jeunesse</i>;" -and at five-and-twenty was still as much inclined -as ever to be a dreamer, if the marriage -of my two dearest associates to what the world -styles <i>prodigiously clever men</i>, had not awakened -me to clearer views, and, by a striking practical -lesson, caused me to understand that it was -possible to shine brightly as the glow-worm at -a distance, and be a sightless grub, when brought -close to the eye. As one experimental fact -is better than a world of theory, I began to -apply the melancholy instruction which I derived -from the unhappiness of my friends, to my <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> -own profit. The result was a firm conviction -that plain sense, and gentle temper, resting on -the foundation of a sincerely religious and moral -character, are the very best ingredients to depend -upon in the cup of domestic union; and -that with a few beautiful but very rare exceptions, -the worst companion of earth at a family -fire-side, is a <i>man of genius</i>. I know that an -instance now and then occurs to prove the <i>possibility</i> -of higher things. I know that minds -have sometimes met, bringing the richest gifts -of head and heart in heavenly communion to -the altar; such signal deviations, however, from -the common history of mankind, but serve to -establish the opposite rule, repressing those -visions of romance, which only entail disappointment.</p> - -<p>"When I had paid a visit of some months to -each of my friends, I perceived that their husbands -were men of whom they might be <i>vain</i> -but could not be <i>fond</i>. Isabella, the eldest, had -married one of your "admirable Creighton" -sort of people. He was a Mr. Mills, and set up -for a person of universal science, taste, and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> -talent. There was nothing too high or too low -for the omnivorous appetite of his ambition; -and he has often reminded me of Johnson's -sarcasm directed against Goldsmith, "Sir, he -would be jealous of Punch;" and so would -Mr. Mills. There was no trial of skill, however -humble its object, in which he would not -exert his powers for the pleasure of a triumph. -He knew every thing, at least superficially, and -astonished every society of which he was a -member. How clever! what talents! such -a memory! such universal information! echoed -from room to room whenever he appeared; and -the sweet savour of this incense is the food upon -which he lives, it is his daily bread, and to -purchase it his continual employment. How -Mr. Mills should ever have married, would -surprise, had it not been that the general habit -of mankind protesting against single blessedness, -he thought it necessary to prove that he possessed -superlative powers of captivation, and -accordingly set his eye on my poor friend, -who, in an hour of infatuation, consented to -be his bride. That purpose being accomplished, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> -some newer project succeeded. He lives as if -the world were indeed a stage, and he a player, -continually occupied in learning or rehearsing a -part for the next exhibition, and his wife is -no better in his eyes than candle-snuffer to the -theatre (though far surpassing him in all that -gives solid dignity to human character), because -she is too wise and too honest to flatter -him.</p> - -<p>"My younger friend, Lavinia, is just as miserably -yoked as her sister, though Mr. Dormer -does not resemble Mr. Mills. The latter hates -society as much as the former courts it; and <i>his</i> -weakness is that of authorship. He writes for -every newspaper, magazine, and review, that will -give a place to his lucubrations. He worries all -the members of parliament with prosing dissertations -on political economy, finance, agriculture, -and commerce; he wastes his property in trying -experiments which never come to good. The -restless activity of Mr. Dormer never slumbers, -and is exhibited in endless schemes, the utter -failure of which has no influence in deterring -him from new attempts. He set up a school at <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> -considerable expense, hired a master and mistress -at a large salary, to teach in a method of -his own device, and found at the end of three -years, that the children had not learned to spell. -His sheep were all shorn in the winter to prove -the excellence of a theory on the fineness of -wool; but, as might naturally be expected, the -poor animals all died. He plants trees at mid-summer -to demonstrate that those people are -mistaken who prefer spring and autumn for the -purpose, but as you may easily anticipate, never -beholds a leaf on any of his ill-fated groves, -which, after a few months of "hope deferred," -are consigned to the oven. He drowned a -favourite dog the other day in trying a life-boat -of his own construction; and broke his arm last -year by a fall from a balloon which he had inflated -with some new gas, and Icarus-like, would -essay himself with <i>such</i> success as attended the -first flight of the Dædalian wings. Though he -lives at home, all the endearing relations of life -are despised and neglected. He hates the sight -of two lovely children, because they interrupt -him; and though I passed four months with <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> -Lavinia, I never saw her husband come but -twice to the room where she and I sat in the -mornings: oh the first occasion, to ask for one -of her harp strings, with which to make experiment -on a new theory of vibration; and upon -the second, to beg a bit of gum from his wife's -drawing-box, with which, to secure one of his -retorts. Always in a hurry, he makes a perpetual -<i>breeze</i> through the house, by the rapidity -of his motions; and, as his hands are generally -imbrued in chemical compounds, not of Arabian -odour, I cannot say that the gale thus stirred, -wafts perfume on its wing. Nothing can rouse -his attention to his own affairs, which would fall -into utter confusion were it not for the good -sense of his wife. He dislikes the neighbouring -gentry, because he does not consider them -people of <i>talent</i>; and expends his money without -any reference either to ornament or real -utility, but simply with the vain-glorious hope -of advancing his individual fame as a man of -genius.</p> - -<p>"Thus instructed by the shipwreck of others, -I did not dare to fancy that my bark would <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> -escape where goodlier vessels had foundered. I -therefore resolved, that should it be my fate to -encounter the voyage of matrimony, I would try -another course; and though sunken rocks might -mar my hopes, I determined that I would steer -clear of the quicksands which had been fatal to -my friends. It is but justice to the long contemned -counsel of you and my valuable Edward -Otway, to finish my story with a tribute to <i>him</i> -who furnished the comment on your text.</p> - -<p>"Adolphus is remarkable for an excellent -understanding and correct judgment. Others -may outshine him in original powers of mind, -but none can surpass him in the tasteful appreciation -of merit, whatever be its form, and -wherever it exists. Kind and unselfish, he can -praise in others those attributes which he does -not himself possess; and every scheme in which -he is engaged, has for its object the comfort and -advantage of his fellow-creatures. If he find -that his views are erroneous, or detect a flaw in -their application, far from becoming the <i>advocate</i>, -because he was the <i>proposer</i> of a plan, he -resigns his particular views with a noble ingenuousness, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> -and, confessing that they were -either unfounded, or not suited to the case, seeks -farther light from whatever source is most likely -to afford information. This complete absence -of pertinacity has a powerful effect in enhancing -the weight of his opinion in every deliberation, -as it is well known, that he will not adhere to -the wrong side because it is that which he had -first adopted. While others pursue the 'bubble -reputation' abroad, Adolphus seeks to be loved -at home, and his own fire-side is the scene in -which the best energies of his mind, and the -purest affections of his heart are expanded. I -am reclaimed by his virtues from my visionary -absurdities, and shall endeavour to make all the -reparation in my power for having wandered so -far from the truth by <i>preaching</i> a <i>crusade</i> to the -youth of my own sex, who may be inclined to -deviate into the labyrinth from which I was -myself so happily extricated. If you have any -female friends to whom my tale may be useful, -advise them from the experience of Clara -Browne, against an overweening admiration of -talents without due reflection on the manner in <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> -which such talents are associated. Tell them -that books, and occasional conversation may -supply all that is necessary of mental variety, -while <i>nothing</i> is capable of compensating for the -want of common sense, disinterestedness, and -affection."</p> - -<p>Clara ceased; and as I remained a month at -Stockton, after her husband's return, I am enabled -to bear a willing testimony to the fidelity -of her narrative, as well as to the soundness of -her views: and as I know how glad you will be -to hear of her happiness, I have given you this -detail without fear of your being fatigued by its -perusal.</p> - -<p class="right"> -<span class="padding-right5">I am, my dear Otway,</span><br /> -<span class="padding-right4">Your sincere friend,</span><br /> -<span class="smcap padding-right2">G. L.</span><br /> -</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - -<p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span></p> - -<h2>LETTER XXI.</h2> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Douglas to Mrs. E. Sandford.</span></p> - - -<p>My dearest Elizabeth will believe that Glenalta -has charms which even Killarney cannot -boast for me. Yes; though the word <i>home</i> -never meets my eye or ear without producing -a <i>gulp</i>, which tells of other days, when that little -monosyllable of four letters contained the <i>world</i> -for me, yet repose is so necessary to my existence, -that I sighed for return to my peaceful -glen, and the pain of concealing every feeling -that warred against the happiness of my beloved -children, from their acute observation, increased -my restraint, and has converted the enjoyment -of my <i>cell</i> into more positive pleasure than I -have felt for years. How gracious are the mercies -shed upon our daily path, and how tender -the dispensation which so often renders what we -conceive to be inflictions, conducive to our comfort! <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span> -Elizabeth, my spirits are unusually depressed, -but you are expecting an answer to your -letter, and I will not suffer my pen to forget its -duty, nor wander from the subject of your inquiry, -till I have given you what little aid, my -longer experience of your present cares, may -contribute. You think that my advice would -be, that you should resign yourself exclusively -to the charm of such society as you find amongst -the Stanleys, No, dear friend; I would only -allow you to <i>prefer</i> them; but there is a net of -kind, expansive benevolence which it would seem -as if Nature loved to throw more widely in scenes -of rural life than in any other. "Man made -cities, God formed the country." It is very -true, every heart must acknowledge the distinction, -and yours my friend would desire to emulate, -as far as the imperfect creature is enabled -to do, the bounty of that Being who has placed -you where all the sweet charities of fellowship -may be called into exercise. I do not mean -that you should mingle indiscriminately, nor -<i>over-much</i> in society: I would only say avoid -unkindness; exclusion should be reserved for the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> -unworthy, but not visited on those who have -only the misfortune to be less pleasing than their -neighbours. A judicious <i>assortment</i> will always -prevent the disagreeable effects which sometimes -spring from neglect of selecting such people only -as harmonize with each other in manners and -modes of thinking. I should be more diffuse -upon this subject, were there the slightest danger -of your supposing for a moment that I could -be the advocate of an <i>electioneering</i> system. You -know how I abhor the arts of popularity, and -revere independence; but human virtues and -vices are often separated from each other by -such imperceptible shades, that in giving ourselves -credit for the performance of the one, it is -too often our lot to glide into the other. Selfishness -is an arch fiend, and ever at hand to whisper -temptation. I know that it is a prevailing opinion -amongst a large number of respectable and -worthy people, that we are bound to make profession -of our creeds in the highways, and in the -corners of our streets, that every sentence which -we utter should tell of the sect to which we belong, -every article of dress which we wear be a <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> -symbol of distinction; and every person with -whom we converse, every book that we open, -be submitted to an ordeal, and pronounced upon, -by a few self-elected judges, before we venture -to pursue acquaintance with the one, or -advance in perusal of the other.</p> - -<p>I cannot enter into this system of parcelling -out mankind by quite so restrictive a rule; I see -nothing of all this in the inspired precepts of -the great Founder of our faith, whose beautiful -simplicity of doctrine and extensive charity of -example, are too little dwelt upon as matter of -imitation, while His name is mingled with disgusting -familiarity in every trifling discourse.</p> - -<p>Oh, my friend, human nature is so frail that -we should not <i>tempt</i> our pride, or our vanity, -by putting on external marks that may deceive -even our own hearts, and persuade us that -we are better than others. Let our consistency -be seen in our <i>lives</i>; our religion shine through -our actions; our tastes be proclaimed by our -preferences; and let us not <i>profess</i> at all, let us -not belong <i>exclusively</i> to one party, or one -preacher. Let us catch illumnination from <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> -those who possess more than we do, contributing -our own light to such as have less. Do not suffer -your dear girls to assume names or badges. -Do not permit them to be tied down by observances. -Let their books, their society, their -opinions, and their tastes, spring from their -<i>habits</i> and their <i>principles</i>. It is an <i>inverted</i> -method, to begin with the mere trappings, and -argue to the indwelling of the spirit, from the -rigidity of the letter. Set up no sign-posts; -use no cabalistic phraseology; make no premature -vows, and adopt no rule but that of your -Bible in matters of religion. In matters of inferior -concern, I would advise equally against -precipitancy either in proscribing or adopting. -<i>Parade</i> is of all things to be avoided; be natural, -be kind. You will find that some, of whom you -may at first have formed high expectation, are -over-rated, whilst others may rise in your estimation -as you know them better. A little <i>time</i> -settles our modes of life, and regulates our conduct -without any <i>eclat</i> much more consistently -than any pre-arrangement of our own, and with -a little patience we may gradually <i>sift</i> people <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> -and things, till we find ourselves placed as -nearly as circumstances permit, in the situation -most suited to our characters. My little experience -leads me to certain conclusions which had -they been earlier impressed upon my mind I -should have been spared much anxiety. One of -them is, that in the beginning of our career we -all <i>plan</i> too much. We take as it were a <i>survey</i> -of all the territory that lies spread before us, and -sitting down in the pride of full possession, we -scan the map of futurity, dazzle our imaginations -with mines that are to be dug, and riches that -are to be realized, amuse our fancies with palaces -to be built, and forests to be planted, worshipping -within our breasts the idol of self-complacency, -while we contemplate <i>ourselves</i> as the -<i>great</i> engineers whose skill is to operate these -mighty improvements. We <i>assume</i> too much, -we <i>trust</i> too little; we know nothing but the -present, and the present we despise. Our -limited vision cannot extend beyond a point, -and we strain our eyes over all created space. -<i>Little</i> things and <i>proximate</i> purposes, make up -the real sum of happiness and virtue: but we <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> -pass by these in contemptuous disdain, to aim -at the great and the distant; the undefined and -generally unattainable. True wisdom is surely -to watch with our best attention, and cultivate -with assiduity, the daily, the hourly circumstances -which arise in our path, leaving the -widely spreading consequences of unseen result, -to Him who alone is acquainted with the final -issues.</p> - -<p>I have never known a failure in any wish of -my own respecting the good of my family, which -I could not resolve into over solicitude in <i>looking</i> -too far, and <i>doing</i> too much in my <i>own -strength</i>. Examine your heart; be sure that it -is single, that no divided empire <i>there</i> is likely -to split its councils, and lead to compromise or -dissimulation. <i>Simplicity</i> of design is a panoply -of power. Clad in its protective guardianship, -put up your prayers with confidence for that -aid, without which all your efforts will be abortive, -and rising from your knees refreshed by the -blessed assurance that the sincere suppliant is -<i>never</i> disregarded, go forth to your <i>daily</i> task; -as you are taught to ask for your <i>daily</i> bread. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> -Endeavour to perform the little duties which are -allotted to a <i>given hour</i>. Neither perplex your -thoughts, nor weaken your sight by scrutinizing -the hidden things, and pouring through the -darksome mists of future time, but leave it to -<i>become</i> the present. At its appointed period -your duty is declared, and its boundary is traced: -be that your <i>practical</i> object. What mind indeed -of "lofty pitch" would be contented with -the prison that I prescribe, were I not confining -the consideration to that part which we are -individually called upon to <i>act</i> in life; but you -do not mistake my meaning. Ah! who would -wish to walk over "the field of Marathon, or -wander amid the ruins of Iona," without desiring -to possess the power of abstracting thought -from the fleeting moment that eludes our grasp, -to expatiate in the mighty vast of years gone by? -Or who that has ever loved and lost, would clip -the spirit's wing, and stay its airy flight from -stretching beyond this narrow strait of time and -space into the boundless regions of eternal -blessedness, where it is not forbidden to seek -amongst the dazzling host, the happy myriads <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> -of the sky, for <i>one</i> bright seraph, dearer than -the rest, towards whom the newly emancipated -stranger flies to meet its fondest though unearthly -welcome? <i>Can</i> there be danger—<i>is</i> -there impiety—in this vision which steals with -heavenly influence on my solitary musings? -Oh, if there be, speak, my Elizabeth, and I will -try to curb my <i>waking</i> thoughts, and turn imploringly -to <i>sleep</i> for the precious imagery -which perhaps my day-light dreams ought not -to mingle.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poem"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Sleep! balmy Sleep! thy poppies shed</div> -<div class="line indent">A pitying respite on my woes;</div> -<div class="line">Bind on thy charm around my head,</div> -<div class="line indent">And lull my soul to calm repose!</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Yet not those slumbers I implore,</div> -<div class="line indent">That steep the brain in Lethe's wave,</div> -<div class="line">Tho' such the weary sense restore,</div> -<div class="line indent">'Tis not this lifeless boon I crave!</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">I woo thee with thy world of dreams,</div> -<div class="line indent">That o'er the mind in vision play</div> -<div class="line">Thro' mimic shades—by airy streams</div> -<div class="line indent">Where phantom Hope delights to stray.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Now gorgon Reason sinks to rest,</div> -<div class="line indent">And Fancy, with unchartered range,</div> -<div class="line">Soars to the regions of the bless'd;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span> -<div class="line indent">The transit neither hard, nor strange.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">How radiant the etherial light!</div> -<div class="line indent">Credulity, companion kind,</div> -<div class="line">Has spread her wing to join the flight—</div> -<div class="line indent">The spirit's dungeon left behind.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Borne upward to the glorious sky,</div> -<div class="line indent">Crowds of celestial beings throng;</div> -<div class="line">Whose brighter, more inquiring eye,</div> -<div class="line indent">Is that which beams their ranks among?</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">'Twas his!—no more—the vision's past!</div> -<div class="line indent">Hark! is that sound the funeral bell?</div> -<div class="line">Raptures too vivid cannot last—</div> -<div class="line indent">That dream is but a broken spell!</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>There are days so sad, and feelings so overwhelming, -that to make war against their flow -is as fruitless as to oppose a barrier to the sea. -Forgive me. <i>You</i> are not one of the unskilful -comforters who attempt to impart consolation -by checking the tide of sorrow. <i>You</i> understand -better the nature of the human heart, and are -aware that a little kind sympathy is the truest -balm which friendship can bestow.</p> - -<p>I will now impart to you some circumstances -which have weighed upon spirits, at <i>best</i> so tremblingly -poised, that the slightest addition to -their usual burthen destroys the balance. As I <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> -mentioned to you, my excursion to Killarney -was, in itself, a great effort. <i>Such</i> scenery, and -sweet music, are the most powerful exciters, in -my mind, to a train of association which I dread -in company. Memory is so acutely painful, -from the minuteness with which its traces are engraved, -and the fidelity of its pictures, that I fly -from whatever is likely to unlock the stores, and -present to my view <i>much</i> that I dare not contemplate, -unless I am alone. The delight, -however, of gratifying my dear children overcame -every other consideration: and I accompanied -a party composed of admirable materials, -but too numerous and too gay for me. I had -not been long from home before I felt myself, for -the first time, involved in those cares which, as my -children grow up, I must expect to encounter.</p> - -<p>My dear friend Mrs. Fitzroy, whose enlivening -society charmed the whole group, was the -first to awaken my attention to the expressions, -both by looks and manner, of feelings in Mr. -Russell's mind, which her quick eye discovered -that Charlotte had excited. I have such perfect -confidence in the delicacy of my dear girls, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> -that I was spared all solicitude on the score of -<i>conduct</i>; but I watched with uneasiness the progress -of a sentiment which, as it met no return, -will I fear be the cause of pain to an amiable -and an accomplished young man. I find that he -is acquainted with you, and, as he talks of going -into Derbyshire on his return from France, you -will probably see him, and perchance hear his -story from his own lips.</p> - -<p>The conversation, in which he made known -his attachment to Charlotte, took place on the -evening preceding his departure, and was so unlike -the common place dialogues upon such occasions, -that I could not, when it was repeated -to me, repress a smile in the midst of more serious -impressions. It was a lovely evening, and -the young people had, as usual, strayed away -from the elders, whose more sober views of happiness, -and less active powers of locomotion, -happily prepare us, as time advances, for the -final rest.</p> - -<p>As lovers always contrive to find the opportunity -which they are seeking, Russell soon detached -Charlotte from the group, by some appeal <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> -to her taste in particular; and when removed -from all ears, save her own, he exclaimed -(and, poor fellow, I believe with genuine truth), -"How wretched is the <i>ending</i> of such happiness!"</p> - -<p>"It is indeed," replied my innocent Charlotte, -who willingly perhaps gave her companion -a share in the feeling which she echoed.</p> - -<p>Perhaps assured by this encouraging sympathy -that all might be as he wished, Russell continued: -"Even inanimate objects interest the -heart when we are about to quit them."</p> - -<p>"Yes," said Charlotte, "and when one lives -entirely in retreat, where the living objects are -few, we do <i>really</i> love trees, rocks, and streams, -as if they were human beings. Is it not for this -reason that mountaineers, like the Swiss, Scotch, -and Irish, are fonder of their homes than any -other nation?"</p> - -<p>This is not what Russell wanted to know, or -cared to inquire respecting. "To waste love -upon trees and rocks, when so many of our own -species are dying for want of the food lavished -upon <i>them</i>, is not right," said Russell; "and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> -<i>you</i> are more guilty than any one, inasmuch as -your affection is more prized."</p> - -<p>Charlotte interrupted what she perceived to -be a <i>compliment</i>, by answering: "You must not -make <i>speeches</i>. The love that one feels for rural -objects, long known, and seen with daily interest, -can never interfere with better affections. -It is a different thing, and <i>you</i> must know how -<i>very</i> different, as you have a father, mother, and -sisters." The honest air of directness, which I -can imagine to have accompanied this <i>reasoning</i> -upon love, was not very favourable to farther -dalliance.</p> - -<p>When the youthful heart is <i>first</i> excited, and -hope is felt that kindred feeling has touched the -soul in which it feels an interest, how exquisite -the happiness of developement! Like the beautiful -buds of early spring, the unfolding of each -individual scale that binds the young leaves is in -itself delightful, and we do not wish to lose a single -hour of <i>progressive</i> enjoyment, in impatience -to behold the crown of summer foliage. Did -you ever meet with an old book called "<i>Guadentio -di Lucca?</i>"—It is a story in which,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> -amongst some primitive race of people in South -America, I think the lovers are made to declare -their mutual sentiments by an interchange of -buds, and, as inclinations advance, the full-blown -flower.</p> - -<p>But to return. Russell felt that his way was -retrograde, and therefore, making an effort, he -bounded over rocks, shrubs, and rivulets, and, -taking my sweet child by the hand, declared, in -the spirit of Hector to Andromache, though with -the difference between <i>is</i> and <i>might be</i>, that <i>all</i> -relations, however fond, concentrate in the object -of tender and devoted love. To hear a confession -of this nature, for the first time, must necessarily -produce confusion in the mind of so gentle -a being as Charlotte, and she told her sister -that she felt quite unable for a few minutes to collect -herself. Courage was imparted at length, -by the fear of conveying the opposite of what -she intended to communicate by her silence; -and, summoning resolution, she turned to our -young friend, and, thanking him kindly for the -preference which he had just expressed, added:</p> - -<p>"I have many blessings, and I am very young. -It has never before occurred to me even to <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> -<i>think</i>, in my own case, of parting with such -treasures as I possess; and though I shall always -remember your visit to Glenalta as a period -of <i>great</i> pleasure, and <i>you</i> as an agreeable member -of our happy party, I can say no more."</p> - -<p>Russell urged the usual arguments. "Surely -she did not mean to devote herself to a single -life. She might still have the society of mother, -sisters, brother. Marriage was the natural object -of life: it was the happiest lot when 'heart -met heart.'"</p> - -<p>"And <i>how</i> can heart meet heart," replied -Charlotte, "on a three weeks' acquaintance? -<i>My</i> heart would require a much longer time for -disposing of itself, if I could disengage it from -the ties that bind it here; and I cannot imagine -how people should be either so vain, or so confiding -as to fancy that the foundation of happiness, -for perhaps a long life, can be laid in a -short moment of time."</p> - -<p>Russell assured her that to the quick eye of a -lover, moments were years in bringing people -acquainted.</p> - -<p>"Ah then," said Charlotte, "why are so <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> -many married people unhappy?"</p> - -<p>"They are just as well off in the end," answered -Russell, "as those who are single, and -certainly, till they discover their mistakes, much -happier."</p> - -<p>"Well, my life," replied Charlotte, "is too -happy for any change of my <i>own</i> making, I believe. -If heaven deprived me of all that I love, -it is another question, but to deprive <i>myself</i>, I -cannot. My idea of marriage is not so favourable -as yours. I think it would require the most -powerful affection to render it a relation of real -felicity; and if not <i>that</i>, I should think it much -worse than even an unfortunate lot in single -life."</p> - -<p>"Have I then <i>no</i> ground of hope," said -Russell.</p> - -<p>"Indeed, I feel wholly disinclined to marry -any mortal at present," answered Charlotte. -"To you I am scarcely at all known; and I believe -that you are entirely mistaken in supposing -for an instant that we are suited to each other. -You and I have been educated in very different <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> -schools, and could never sympathize."</p> - -<p>"Do you then forget our musical sympathies. -Am I not devoted to your sweet melodies, -and have we not often admired them in -unison?"</p> - -<p>"Oh yes, certainly," said Charlotte, "but -music is a very little part of life.—We must not -stay any longer from our party, who, perhaps, -are wondering at our absence." Fanny appeared -precisely as Charlotte spoke the last word, and -the latter, seizing her sister's arm, was delighted -to find excuse for terminating the conversation.</p> - -<p>The <i>last</i> evening is always sad, when those -who have been pleased in each other's society -are to part; but there is generally also some degree -of bustle, immediately preceding a journey, -which prevents the mind from dwelling on -gloomy thoughts, at least in <i>common</i> cases; and -as all were ignorant of what had happened, except -the pair immediately concerned, there was -less reserve than might have been anticipated -by any one who knew the fact that a proposal -had been made and rejected.</p> - -<p>Mr. Annesley is a very sweet young man, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span> -and he too was happy enough in our friendly -circle to leave us with regret, which expressed -itself silently in a fine and speaking countenance. -We said farewell. The morning saw our visitors -set out at so early an hour that the track of their -carriage wheels alone reported of them when we -met at breakfast. Is there one bright, breathless, -listening joy that ever hung upon expected happiness -which is not familiar to my memory; and -is not that memory too a faithful register of every -pang that severed love could teach the heart? -How is it then, I wonder, that a tear is left for -minor griefs? Yet tears <i>will</i> flow; and I felt -the difference between the gladsome merriment -of approach, when our young friends were introduced -by Mrs. Fitzroy, and the melancholy -of their departing hour.</p> - -<p>Still we are not bereaved of our guests all at -once, though I grieve to add that another week -will deprive me of dear Augusta Fitzroy, and my -charming Arthur. I have real pleasure in the -hope of presenting the latter to you one of these -days, and in the mean time I prepare you for <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> -finding him <i>almost</i> all that I desire to see him. -Such a change I did not imagine possible, as -has taken place in his mind since he has been -with us. The materials were in existence, no -doubt, but a London life has little need of -<i>heart</i>, and, therefore, <i>his</i> remained <i>hermetically -sealed</i>, except when brought into action by his -inestimable friend young Falkland, whose letters, -which Arthur prsserves like "leaves of the -Sybil", have rendered me acquainted with his -extra-ordinary virtues. <i>Now</i> in full exercise, my -dear nephew's affections are the source of happiness -to himself and delight to all around. His -abilities are shining, and, as habit strengthens the -power of applying them, I feel no doubt of his -becoming an ornament to society, and filling the -situation appointed for him by Providence so as -to set an example worthy of imitation. Domestic -anxiety at present weighs upon his spirits, proving -at once an acuteness of feeling and exalted -sense of rectitude, which promise a foundation -of future character, delightful to anticipate.</p> - -<p>I must speak of George Bentley before I <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> -conclude; and, to answer your inquiry in the -<i>first</i> instance, I am wholly unconscious of any -ground for his uncle's apprehensions, though -had I been aware of any such before we set out, -I should not have consented to his being of our -Killarney party; however, as Mr. Bentley followed -us, my anxiety was removed. The young -man is a fine and uncommon character: you -shall have a sketch of it as far as I can trace its -peculiarities. George Bentley offers a remarkable -instance to prove, that what climate is to -the vegetable kingdom, such to man is the moral -atmosphere by which he is surrounded in early -life. The temperature and aspect will not -indeed convert an oak into an elm; but as the -sapling of either, or of <i>any</i> kind may be -checked in its growth by the chill north-eastern -blast, and turned aside from the natural tendency -of its course; or, as the tender and -languid seedling may be improved in strength -by the care which tempers its exposure, and -provides shelter for its weakness, just so may a -particular bias of nature in the human mind be <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> -enfeebled or invigorated by circumstance, that -powerful agent in the completion of its structure. -Young Bentley came into the world with -excellent faculties and dispositions, but nothing -could be less favourable than that society in -which they were to be unfolded. It is not the -tutor's lessons, it is the manners and opinions -which <i>breathe</i> around us, that impart the <i>tone</i> -which distinguishes individuals from each other. -Young Bentley was formed in a different <i>mould</i> -of intellect from all his family, and soon discovered -in books, a companionship which was -denied in the circle of his immediate relations. -As he advanced in years, his mind, stimulated -by a general sense of hunger, rather than by -any discrimination of appetite, sought food for -the cravings of curiosity in a library of motley -mixture, accruing from various professional -hoards, and a medley of novels, annual registers, -and magazines, accumulated in a series of -generations, through family survivorship. He -was not met at home by either literary tact -or talent. No, nor by that sort of tact which <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> -sometimes supplies in a great degree, the defect -of one and the other.</p> - -<p>Let loose as it were in an immense common, -without a guide to direct him in the choice of -his pasture, he devoured with avidity whatever -presented itself. He passed through school and -university with distinguished success, less the -meed of brilliant talent than the reward of -diligent application, and, unfortunately for himself, -was emancipated from the trammels of -education long before his age would permit him -to enter one of the learned professions for which -he was designed. The interval between the -termination of a young man's first course of -scholastic discipline, and the commencement of -his professional career, is perhaps by far the -most important period of existence in determining -his future fate, and no prudent parent -should permit that interval to be a long one. -The mind, relieved from its former habitual -restraint, and not yet <i>harnessed</i> in a new pursuit, -dashes wildly forward to revel in the -charms of liberty, and woe to him who enjoys -such length of holyday as to unfit him for returning <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> -to the toilsome track in which he must -plod for daily bread. George Bentley employed -the <i>chasm</i> in <i>his</i> course, chiefly in reading -every thing upon which he could lay his hands -in the region of fiction and romance. His college -studies were ended before he had passed -that awkward time of life, when neither child, -nor man, the youth not knowing how to dispose -of the disproportioned length of legs and arms -by which he is encumbered, often flies from -polished society in which he cannot expect to -receive much notice; and young Bentley was -too amiable, too aspiring a character to seek in -low company the ease which he might have -attained at the expense of morality. Thus -while he was sliding into manhood, his days -were principally occupied in solitude, amidst a -heterogeneous mass of books, except during the -hours of occasional meeting with his parents, -brothers and sisters.</p> - -<p>Inelegant, and unrefined in the habits of -domestic economy, the circle of his relations -presented not a single likeness to any of the -pictures of imagination which were promiscuously <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> -piled in his memory. What he <i>saw</i>, did -not in the least agree with what he <i>imagined</i>; -but there where two powerful motives, though -of opposite parentage, which co-operated to -prevent him from making the humiliating confession, -even to <i>himself</i>, that he could not trace -the most distant resemblance in his mother and -sisters, to the portraits which delighted him in -story. These motives were the <i>vice</i> of pride, -and the <i>virtue</i> of filial piety; and these combined, -determined him to try every effort that -was practicable in the way of twisting and turning, -letting out and taking in, to fit some of the -drapery with which his favourite novels abounded, -on those forms which his affectionate heart -would have gladly invested with whatever he -found most attractive. It would not do: and -he has at length given up the attempt, satisfied -to respect and esteem, what he cannot admire; -but the effect upon his mind of this war which -I have described between his tastes and his fortunes, -is singular. Let him describe character, -whether in actual existence, or of abstract contemplation; -and you would be surprised by the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span> -accuracy of his judgment, and the refinement of -his taste; yet from having studied books more -than men, and been debarred in early life from -referring the rules which he learned, to any -living examples which might have afforded a -practical illustration of them, he seems at a loss -in society, and gives one the idea of a person -who had attained to a perfect skill in geography -by mere inspection of maps, without ever having -stirred from a close room in the heart of London. -If such a person were suddenly brought -to the coast, he would be confused, and quite -unable for some time to follow the line of bays -and harbours, creeks and head-lands, with which -he was familiar on paper. When George -Bentley, at a later period extended his acquaintance, -and quitted home, a number of new -varieties were presented to his view, in which he -might have found specimens of every character; -but the most impressible time of life had passed -away, he did never possess, originally, the power -of comparison in any vividness, and the absence -of all encouragement to its exercise in youth, -has rendered him slow, now that he is of <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> -maturer age, in adapting objects for the first -time to his patterns. The eye accustomed only -to painting, does not come at <i>once</i> to criticise -sculpture; and a surgeon, who knows the whole -anatomy of the living subject, which <i>either</i> is -employed to represent, may be a dunce in <i>both</i>. -The things are <i>different</i>, and will remain so, -unless early habit and natural tact familiarize -the mind in applying them to each other, and -seeking similitudes between them. Young -Bentley's mind and manners in fine do not -amalgamate; one <i>layer</i> lies upon the other -like a <i>fineering</i>, which does not make a part of -the plank to which it is cemented, but is glued -on to a material less fine than itself. He <i>reasons</i> -more than he <i>feels</i>, is more solid than brilliant, -and wants that beautiful <i>lightning</i> of the mind -which plays sometimes round characters not half -so intrinsically valuable as his, with fascinating -illumination. Such is my brief sketch of 'poor -George,' as his uncle calls him. The future is -concealed in mist. If a child of mine ever love -young Bentley well enough to marry him, she -shall have my full consent, for I am <i>sure</i> of all <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> -the essentials that give security for substantial -peace. The graces which he wants <i>may</i> be dispensed -with. The virtues which he possesses -are indispensible; but I shall avoid giving <i>direction</i> -to the inclination of my girl, towards any -particular objects, not because I do not think -that many a parent might choose more wisely -than young people do for themselves; but there -is something perhaps inseparable from the -human heart, which renders us more willing to -excuse our own blunders, than those of even the -people whom we love best. "Youth is easily -deceived;" "love is blind," &c. Many of these -flattering aphorisms occur to extenuate our own -errors, while the question of "how did <i>your</i> experience -fail, how did you commit a mistake?" -arises in the heart, though it may not be expressed -by the lips, of every young romancer, -who, finding life a chequered scene in which the -<i>tessalæ</i> of black and white, hold perpetual contrast, -attributes to the influence of a friend's -advice, the failure of those <i>generally</i> disappointed -hopes that paint the marriage state in colours -bright and fleeting as the imagination which <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> -supplies them.</p> - -<p>This moment comes a letter from the India -House, to say that my poor brother, General -Douglas, has had so serious an attack of illness, -that his voyage to England is hastened, and we -are informed, that his arrival may be looked for -immediately. How this event may operate at -Glenalta, I cannot tell; but though "the -noiseless tenour of my way" should be disturbed, -I shall rejoice if it be permitted me to -afford comfort and assistance to the invalid. -Adieu, my Elizabeth.</p> - -<p class="right"> -<span class="padding-right5">Your faithful</span><br /> -<span class="smcap padding-right2">Caroline Douglas.</span><br /> -</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span></p> - -<h2>LETTER XXII.</h2> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Arthur Howard to Charles Falkland.</span></p> - -<p> -My dear Charles, -</p> - -<p>This letter, if not melancholy in its commencement, -will surely be tinged with a very -gloomy colouring ere its close, for the day of departure -is at hand, and to quit Glenalta is no -easy matter, I assure you. Poor Russell and -Annesley left us the day before yesterday. I -told you that I expected to be informed of -Charlotte's reply to certain questions which I -felt confident would be <i>put</i>; but I miscalculated: -however, silence tells <i>some</i> tales, it is -said, as well as language, and so in this case -I found it. It was plain to <i>my</i> eyes, and -others too amongst our party, that Russell -chose his opportunity while we were loitering -about the Glen, to make his proposals, which -were evidently met in a feeling not <i>sympathetic</i>: <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> -an increased <i>activity</i> of countenance told -me this. It would be injustice to call it anger, -but there was an expression of eye, and a -bright spot on each cheek-bone, that seemed -to indicate a very honest surprise, mingled -with what the peasants here comically call the -"least taste in life," of indignation. If I am -<i>right</i>, this is all in the strict <i>keeping</i> with Russell's -character. You and I long ago decreed -that he would never die of <i>love</i>, notwithstanding -all his enthusiasm about soft music. No; Russell -loves his <i>own</i> emotions better than the object -who excites them; and though I just feel -sufficient <i>esprit de corps</i> not in <i>general</i> to like an -individual of the other sex better for having -made one of our own look <i>foolish</i>, yet I am -sincerely glad that Charlotte has not accepted -our friend; first, because she would not be -happy if she married him, and secondly, because -I <i>do</i> think that just such a <i>hitch</i> will do -him good. He is a fine honest-hearted fellow, -and has a great deal of taste; but he surely -knows it rather too well, or at least he <i>shews</i> -that he does so, too much. Perhaps, more <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> -truth-telling than his neighbours, <i>he</i> only expresses -what others have art enough to conceal. -You will say that I am catching infection, -and growing <i>acrid</i> in the society of old Bentley: -it may be so; but I tell you <i>all</i> my remarks.</p> - -<p>Frederick and I got up to see the travellers -off at <i>cock-crow</i> on the morning of their departure, -and they left a blank which was felt -by us all. What a sweet contrast was presented -in this family with what I have so often -witnessed on similar occasions, when a gay -party had reached its <i>finale</i>, and was <i>crumbling</i> -away by twos and threes! I remember at -Featherston, when the last shooting-match -broke up in Autumn, Lady Frances and -Giorgina Lightfoot, who had been just saying -"<i>adio</i>" in the most melting accents to a <i>brace</i> -of departing guests (by the bye, the very Russell -of whom we were speaking was one of them) -called to Gifford and me in the moment after the -post-boy cracked his whip and the horses had -turned from the hall door, to accompany them -back to the breakfast-parlour. We obeyed; <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span> -and the ladies, drawing their chairs close to -the fender, and desiring us to do the same, -Lady Fanny said, "For goodness' sake, come, -let us talk over those two creatures, and <i>cut -them up cosily</i>—I dote on a good <i>cosé</i> when -people have turned their backs; don't you?" -To <i>laugh</i> was all that one had for it; but the -feeling that Gifford and I were to be brought -under the <i>scalpel</i> of two such keen operators -as our fair hostesses proved themselves to be -anatomizing the <i>lately defunct</i>, glanced across -my mind, not certainly to the increase of ease or -benevolence.</p> - -<p>How different at Glenalta! With talents -ten thousand times superior to those of the -Lightfoot sisterhood, and discrimination which -seems to grow in solitude, and preserve its -fineness of edge because it is not, like a school-boy's -penknife, employed to hack and hew at -every chair and table that comes in the way: -the truest hospitality protects all who go out -from under this happy roof; and all that is worthy, -pleasing, and amiable, is recollected, while -the <i>contraries</i> are held back in shade by that <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> -charity which <i>desires</i> their reform, and will not -render a change less probable by proclaiming to -mankind how much it is required. <i>Here</i> the -absent were talked of, and thought of, with -real kindness; and could they have taken a peep -amongst us from their first evening's halt, they -would have felt proud and gratified at seeing -the manner in which they were remembered. -Is there any thing so delightful as this feeling of -<i>security</i>? Charlotte was calm and unperturbed; -but I thought her more pensive than usual. -After breakfast we all appeared, without saying -so, as if inclined to pay a tribute to "the -friend that's awa," by not proposing any plan -for the morning; and it so happened, that -though not assembled by any agreement to -meet, we had all sauntered in pairs into the -wood, and all found ouselves dropping in two -and two at the Moss House, where we were -at length seated together, moralizing in concert, -rather sorrowfully upon meetings and partings, -when that very diverting compound, Mr. Bentley, -followed by George, joined our party. -He cannot resist the attraction of Mrs. Fitzroy's <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> -society, and I have found out in what consists -the great difference (dearly as they love -each other) between her character and that -of my aunt: it is this,—Aunt Douglas is drawn -by sympathy, Mrs. Fitzroy stimulated by opposition. -The former lives more in a region -of feeling, though one in which intellect too -is continually busy. The latter, though very -affectionate, can exist for a long time without -applying to the stores of her heart; and -provided you give her plenty of brains, she will -feed upon them, and keep her affections like -the furniture of a state drawing-room, with -the <i>covers on</i>. <i>Par consequence</i>, then, Mrs. -Fitzroy delights in seeing Mr. Bentley come -to pay a visit, and always rouses to the combat -which is sure to ensue, certain that her antagonist -is strong, and feeling that "wit -sparkles in collision."</p> - -<p>"Good morrow, good people," said our -rough diamond, "I thought you would be all -as low as 'gib cats' this morning, after the departure -of those two <i>swains</i>, (casting a sidelong -glance at Charlotte, which she caught, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> -and blushed immoderately,) and so I thought -it might divert you all, and adorn a page of -Madam Fitzroy's Anthologia Hibernia, to bring -you a pretty specimen of Irish impudence -which I have had to provoke me to-day. -You must know, that while I was playing the -fool, and strolling about at Killarney instead of -minding my business at home, a dozen of very -fine geese were stolen from my farm-yard, by -some of those sweet primitive sentimentalists -whom the fair flatterer there has decked in -such fanciful tissues, that when sent forth from -the dressing-room of her imagination, nobody -knows who they are. Well, I took proper -steps to trace the thief, and have put the -neighbourhood into a deuce of a fright; but -what do you think of the impertinence of -some funny dog (and here he laughed heartily -as he drew out from his waistcoat-pocket a -dirty scrap of paper) who sent my large gander -<i>twaddling</i> home this morning by himself, making -such plaguy noise that all the servants ran -together to see what was the matter; I found -this novel species of carrier-bird with a small <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span> -bag tied round his neck, containing a bright -new shilling, and the following ingenious -sample of poetry, after something of the leonine -fashion. He then unfolded at arm's length, the -crumpled composition, and read,</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poem"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">"Squire, dear, I live here,</div> -<div class="line indent">And you live <i>yander</i>;</div> -<div class="line">I bought your geese, for pence a-piece,</div> -<div class="line indent">The money I send by the gander."</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>We were indeed cheated out of our philosophy, -and set laughing most comfortably by the -ridiculousness of this adventure of neighbour -Bentley, which, as he anticipated, was seized -upon with rapture by Mrs. Fitzroy, for her -"Irish Reminiscences," but poor Charlotte -was writhing under the remembrance of her -having <i>blushed</i>, and Mrs. Fitzroy, who is very -good-natured, and who saw exactly the cause, -which was no other than that of having been -<i>suspected</i> to feel what in reality she did <i>not</i> feel, -endeavoured to relieve her by recurring to the -subject of our conversation, saying, "Oh! -Charlotte, you must repeat your last observation, -I scarcely heard it. Were you not <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> -saying that in wild places where there is no -great choice of society, the bonds of fellowship -are drawn closer, and people are disposed -to like each other better than in situations -which render one fastidious by the variety -they present? If <i>that</i>, my dear, was -your remark, I think it a very just one, and I -believe that I may apply the rule to our young -friends who are gone to-day; one of whom, had -I met him in what is called the <i>world</i>, I should -probably never have known, he is so reserved: -and the other is so volatile, that he would have -been completely evaporated over a larger surface."</p> - -<p>Charlotte, who had quite recovered her -<i>nerve</i>, answered with perfect ease, "Well, -there is great pleasure in liking our fellow-creatures, -and, if retirement produce philanthropy, -it is better than the world; is it not?" -"I believe," answered Mrs. Fitzroy, that I shall -be entirely of your opinion some time or other, -though we arrive at this agreement by very opposite -paths. <i>You</i>, having seen nothing of the -world, and <i>I</i> a great deal too much of it; you <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> -inhabitants of Glenalta are making me long for -settlement amongst you; and I feel as if you -were the only set of people living</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poem"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">"Whose hearts keep the promise I had from the face."</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>Old Bentley <i>fidgeted</i>; giving one of his rapid -glances at George, to ascertain how he stood -<i>affected</i> by Mrs. Fitzroy's panegyric, and finding -"pleased acquiescence" seated on his nephew's -countenance, suddenly clapped his hands -on his knees (a favourite movement of his) and -exclaimed, "Pooh, madam! all fal lal sort of -talk. You might sit here till doomsday ringing -the changes upon these matters of sentiment, -and <i>all</i> be right and <i>all</i> be wrong. I -dare say that Miss Douglas could say something -different from what you and her sister -think upon the subject. Miss Fanny, if we call -her from tying up those sweet peas, would probably -tell us something else; and our young gentlemen, -all, I dare say, could produce a different -reading of the self-same thought. The fact is, -that each individual character gives its own -hue to such sort of disquisitions. Miss Douglas <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> -what do you say?"</p> - -<p>"Indeed, Mr. Bentley, I believe that I do -think differently from Mrs. Fitzroy and Charlotte -on this occasion, and so I dare say that I -am wrong; but it strikes me that the more retired -the situation in which we live, the more -nice do we grow, and the more necessary do we -find <i>great</i> congeniality in the people with whom -we associate; <i>that</i> is if we want to love them. In -the world where every variety of talent and disposition -is to be found, one can choose, and if -disappointed in one instance, try in another; -but in retreat, we must make the best of the -given ingredients."</p> - -<p>Bentley chuckled with delight, and rubbed -his hands in triumph. This keen observer -knew that Emily's opinion would justify his assertion, -and moreover that it would be favourable -to his views of keeping George's hopes, <i>if -he has any</i>, down to the ground, Emily being -the person, towards whom I suspect that he -thinks his nephew's half averted eyes, are directed.</p> - -<p>"Aye, there it is," said the uncle, "all right, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span> -all wrong; exactly as I said. Mrs. Fitzroy is -social in all her tendencies. Human nature is -the book in which she principally delights to -study. Her love even of fine scenery is coupled -with society. She does not like any thing -much, except with a reference to communicating -her ideas, and puts me continually in mind -of a passage that I have met with in the works -of Balsac, an old French author, who says, -"Que la solitude est un belle chose, mais qu'il -est agréable d'avoir quelque un qui sache répondre, -a qui on puisse <i>dire</i> que la solitude est -une belle chose." Now another thing is, that -Mrs. Fitzroy does not require coincidence so -much as intelligence. Her mind is generally -in search of a good whetstone, while Miss Douglas——."</p> - -<p>"Oh, do not paint me, Mr. Bentley," said -Emily, "I should fly from a portrait of myself."</p> - -<p>"And I," said Mrs. Fitzroy, "declare loudly -against Mr. Bentley's rough sketches. I will, -however, admit that there is <i>some</i> truth in what -he says, and it exceedingly amuses me to catch <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span> -glimpses of his caricatures, though they would -terrify if I looked long at them."</p> - -<p>"That is because my caps fit," answered our -Diogenes.</p> - -<p>"Your caps are so ugly that no one would -<i>try them on</i>," replied Mrs. Fitzroy. "Mr. Otway -is <i>my</i> milliner, and to prove that I do not -wish to hoist false colours, I here pledge myself -to let you all see, if you like it, whatever our -friend of Lisfarne brings me this day, as answer -of a question, which I proposed to him yesterday -evening, while we were walking, and talking, -on this very subject. I then made a -complaint and told him that it has been my -fate most unjustly, and most painfully to my -feelings, to be thought insincere, though I know -to a positive certainty, that I err on the other -side and speak the truth with less reserve than -is prudent. I told Mr. Otway, for whom I entertain -the highest regard and admiration, that -his <i>review</i> of my character might be very useful, -if, as I am, alas! on the wing, he would give me -an explanation of what seems so extra-ordinary -to myself, in comparing causes with effects; and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span> -though I shall not be paid any compliments, I -am so sure of not being made worse than I am, -that, as I said before, whatever picture I receive -of myself from Lisfarne you shall certainly -see."</p> - -<p>"Come, madam," said old Bentley, "the -coroner's inquest will be called immediately to -try the matter, and judge whether you are <i>murdered</i> -or not, for here is Mr. Otway. I see him -through the acacias, walking this way with Mrs. -Douglas."</p> - -<p>"Then I will go and meet them," answered -Mrs. Fitzroy. "Frederick, you shall go with -me. I will ask for the paper which I expect, -and you shall bring it back to be read here before -I look at it myself, but I cannot stay like -a culprit at the bar, while you are all scanning -me according to evidence."</p> - -<p>So saying, she gaily hastened away, joined my -aunt, and sent back with the following account -of herself from the pen of Mr. Otway:</p> - -<p><i>Answer to Augusta's Question.</i></p> - -<p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Augusta inquires why she, who never feels -conscious of desiring to deceive, should be -reckoned insincere by those who do not understand -her; and as this comprehends by far the -largest portion of the people with whom she -converses, how it is that the general voice of -mankind, which is usually considered to convey -the truth with respect to individual character, -is in her case a false criterion, representing her -as the opposite of what she really is? I think -that I can solve the enigma satisfactorily. Augusta -is a woman of decided genius, a word -which comprehends the union of fine talent, and -quick perception. She also possesses that force -of understanding which has been commonly, -though not correctly distinguished by the epithet -masculine, she herself furnishing proof that -we of the other sex have no right to the <i>monopoly</i> -which we often assume; and that, in seizing -on the <i>copy-right</i> of solid sense, we are guilty of -an untenable usurpation. Augusta is particularly -qualified to appreciate merit, for her mind -is penetrating and her taste refined; but <i>enthusiasm</i> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> -is the blind that interposes to prevent the -exercise of her judgment. Eager to find materials -on which to employ her intellect and affections, -and ever in search of objects that may -prove worthy of exciting them; her progress -through life has been one continued voyage of -discovery. She dislikes the common track, and -avoids those ports where low traffic and vulgar -merchandise are all the allurement that presents -itself. She delights in setting her sails for some -<i>terra incognita</i>; and in the true spirit of an -animated adventurer, if on landing she find a -few grains of gold in the sands, she imagines -rich mines in the distance, and precipitately announcing -the Eldorada of her hopes, hastens -forward to secure the treasure in prospect. -Delusion has too frequently mocked her career: -not that Augusta invented a fiction; she had -found the grains of precious metal, and fancied -that it was only to follow the course of the -stream, and be rewarded with store of riches; -but in ascending the current no glittering prize -repays her toil. Rugged mountains, barren -rocks, and tedious flats, fatigue the eye; returning <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span> -weary and disappointed, she trims her bark -and invokes a favourable breeze, and bidding -adieu to the region which had exhibited poverty -instead of wealth, she weighs anchor and steers -for another coast. Under this allegory would -I present Augusta a mirror in which to behold -herself. Tired of the vapid circle by which -she has been encompassed in the world, and -weary of crowds in which she found little congenial -society, she has been perpetually engaged -in seeking for what might interest her better -feelings, and fill the vacuum which she experienced -in her mind. In this pursuit it has frequently -occurred that some agreeable quality -met her view, and encouraged the activity of her -research; but, mistaking her own energy of anticipation -for success, she proclaims with joy, -the <i>treasure trove</i>, ere she knows the extent of -its value, and from impetuosity of gratitude, is -condemned to the humiliating confession that -the single attribute which she admired is not -associated with others which her own enthusiasm -had supplied, but lies, like the grain of -gold upon the surface of the sand, in solitary <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> -insulation.</p> - -<p>The apparent contrariety then, it would seem, -which has obtained a character of caprice for -Augusta, is produced by the very excess of that -quality which it is denied that she possesses, and -results from a superabundance rather than a deficiency -of sincerity. She speaks nothing but -the truth, when she praises prematurely, and as -honestly condemns when she discovers that her -panegyric was misapplied. I venture to predict -the operation of a new process in Augusta's -mind, which if I do not greatly mistake, has -been gradually awakening of late to a sense of -the only <i>true</i> estimate. She will never, here-after, -be satisfied I think with tracing character -<i>downwards</i> from some light ornamental decoration -at the <i>top</i>; but in future only expect that -those wreaths which adorn the capital shall be -firmly supported when the pillar rises from a -broad base of solidly established foundation. -The fire of a vivid imagination has prolonged -the <i>youth</i> of Augusta, and it is only now that -she is beginning to learn a valuable lesson in -morals, namely, that happiness, like liberty, is <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span> -often overlooked in the search after it. Young -people, through inexperience, and sometimes -those who are older from sanguineness of temperament, -expect more from life than it has to -bestow. They consider happiness as a precious -jewel never hitherto possessed, yet certainly to -be found though in what shape, place, or circumstances, -it never occurs to them to define; -it is with them a sort of vague ideal charm, -always to be pursued, and as constantly eluding -the grasp. Liberty in like manner, with the -same description of persons, does not consist in -the absence of restraint; in the rational enjoyment -of property, or preservation of rights. -It is a loose ungovernable spirit of infringement -on the privileges of others. The mere security -derived under a just and equal administration of -the laws is no better than bondage in the eyes -of what are technically known by the name and -style of "radical reformers." All this is flat and -tame; they must <i>kick</i> and <i>fling</i>, to be assured -that they are not confined; they must be permitted -to do that which has neither reference to -pleasure nor utility, merely to exercise the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span> -<i>power</i> which absolute freedom bestows, just as a -child in a garden lays about him, and batters -down the flowers on each side with the stick in -his hand, without any need of, or desire for, -the things thus destroyed. We deceive ourselves -much in supposing that happiness of -mind any more than health of body depends -upon <i>place</i>. I do not say that change of scene -is not often both agreeable and convenient; but -if the heart be oppressed, or there be 'a thorn -in the flesh,' the <i>Mordecai</i> travels with us. We -cannot run away from ourselves. To be happy -in the limited sense which Providence permits, -let us endeavour to make <i>home</i> the centre of our -enjoyments. The fulfilment of those little -duties which are at every moment presenting -their claims, may be thought by many a strange -<i>receipt</i> for contentment; yet it is a very sure -one, and if there ever was an axiom on the -truth of which we may rely, it is, that "the mind -is its own place." Instead of looking to new -faces, and seeking in new situations for that undiscovered -<i>something</i>, we know not what, which -upon approaching will, like the sailor's "Cape <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span> -fly away," always vanish, or recede from our -view; let us be assured that, in every condition -of life, and in every spot of earth, much may -be done with the materials that lie immediately -around us; and if we evince no skill in the -manufacture of these, we should not turn a -wider range to profit. My dear friend Augusta -begins to feel these truths, and when they come -to be steadily acted upon, she will no more -be a prey to disappointment—no more be -accounted insincere. Her judgments will be -slower, and therefore less apt to err; her friends -will be fewer, and chosen not for their brilliancy -so much as their worth, and Augusta will find -that all the blessings which do not mock our -grasp, are to be possessed <i>every where</i>, if sought -upon the only principles which can never deceive."</p> - -<p>"Excellent sense," exclaimed Bentley, "my -opinions are not expressed in such courtly phrase -as my friend Otway uses; but I agree in the -substance of every syllable that he has written. -He is quite right, but, like the prophet who -ordered a dip into the river Jordan to cure the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> -leprosy, your moral physicians who prescribe -simples which are to be met with in the field of -our own minds, will never be attended to. No, -no, we must ransack the remotest ends of the -earth for our remedies, because no one is inclined -to think his own case a common one. -Mrs. Fitzroy returned at this moment with -<i>another</i> paper in her hand, over which she was -laughing heartily. "Oh come," said she, "and -read a most delightful copy of verses written -impromptu this moment for me by 'poet Connor,' -who, it appears, having missed us at Killarney, -stepped across the country to Glenalta, -that he might do honour in due form to the -strangers. Arthur, he is inquiring for you, and -as he is one of the most grotesque figures I ever -saw, I pray that you may look at him."</p> - -<p>I went in quest of the poet, as I was desired, -and you may form some idea of these Irish -<i>improvisatori</i> by the few commencing lines of -Connor's composition in praise of Mrs. Fitzroy, -which, if you <i>admire</i>, shall be preserved with -their "<i>tail on</i>," along with his eulogy on your -humble servant, for a future day. What think <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span> -you of the following invocation:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poem"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">"<i>Egregious</i> Dame! thine ear benignly bend,</div> -<div class="line">And to the Muse of Kerry kindly lend</div> -<div class="line">Attention meet, while he shall aptly sing,</div> -<div class="line">And from Apollo's lyre soft music bring.</div> -<div class="line">The <i>ægis</i> of thy sweet protection grant,</div> -<div class="line">While to thy praise he tunes harmonious chaunt.</div> -<div class="line">Glory of England! here we gladly see,</div> -<div class="line">Renowned epitome arrived in thee.</div> -<div class="line indent10">&c. &c. &c."</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>The rude figure who met my eyes on gaining -the house, gave a finish to the poetical treat; -and, certainly, in all my travels I have never -seen a person less formed by nature or art to -captivate <i>the nine</i>, than this votary of the Castalian -choir. He is a man of about sixty, of -Bardolphian physiognomy, who, I rather imagine, -is much more frequently indebted for the -fire of inspiration to a glass of whiskey, than to -the fountain of Helicon. A large, battered tin -snuff-box also contributed its aid to enliven -those numbers</p> - -<p> -"Which warm from the still, and faithful to its fires," -</p> - -<p>were dealt out with equal readiness and prodigality -to all who looked as if they were inclined to <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span> -purchase Parnassian fame; and the same snuff-box -supplied a substitute for sand, with which -ever and anon, the bard sprinkled his effusions. -Fancy a large, obtuse red face, curled head, -rough coat, of dark brown cloth, fastened with -a cord round his waist; a hat full of holes, an -ink bottle cased over with a <i>surtout</i> of pack-thread, -and tied at a button-hole; a pen stuck -behind one ear, and a roll of the coarsest description -of paper sticking out of his bosom, -and you have before you as much of poet Connor -as I shall give till you see his fac simile -admirably sketched by Fanny's pencil in my -journal. Mrs. Fitzroy and I, whose perfections -had been "theme of song," gave half a crown -each to the verse-vender, and received another -scolding from old Bentley for encouraging these -idlers, who, he says, truly enough I believe, -are amongst the most worthless part of the -community. We then dispersed, and went our -several ways, for the first time since the "<i>English -foreigners</i>" had been at Glenalta without saying -when shall we meet again? I am melancholy I -confess. My heart is full, as the hour of my <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span> -departure advances. The last week has brought -me more intimately acquainted than ever with -the excellence from which I must tear myself; -and I am sorrowful in proportion as I compare -the feelings which I brought to Ireland with -those which now on the eve of separation over-whelm -me, as I bid farewell to this happy -abode of all that is best and brightest. Where -shall I look for such affection; where seek such -disinterested kindness, mental improvement, -and variety of pleasurable excitement, as I have -found in this charming spot, which I nicknamed -Blue-stocking Hall, and believed to be a centre -in which pedantry, dullness, affectation, and -presumption, had agreed to meet and lodge -together?</p> - -<p>Glenalta, "I cry you mercy;" if repentance -merit pardon, I may hope to be forgiven. I -love even Domine, and down to the very dogs, -nothing is an object of indifference that I leave -behind. How painful the sensation that one -experiences when the heart swells as though it -would burst its confine, an unbidden tear starts, -and utterance is palsied? Yet this is what we <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span> -pay our money for, and delight in the actor or -the actress who can most powerfully call forth -such emotion, by only imitating those passions, -and feigning those incidents which <i>naturally</i> -affect our sympathies. Why do we thus liberally -bestow our best feelings on theatrical fiction, -while we so frequently withhold them from -the legitimate claims of reality? Old Bentley -would give some reason, I dare say, for this -anomaly, not very favourable to human nature; -and if I think of it I will ask him the question -before I go. We are to have strangers at dinner -to-day, which is a <i>bore</i>, but my aunt wishes -to repay some of the many attentions shewn to -Frederick, since his return from Dublin, by all -the neighbouring gentry, who have been profuse -of congratulation, and perhaps she is desirous -of <i>constraining</i> us all to be more cheerful -in spite of ourselves, than the prospect of a parting -scene on the day after to-morrow would -permit, were it not for a little gentle compulsion. -I shall go on writing till we set out, and -shall not finish this till I reach London, where -I shall hope to find means of sending my packet <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span> -as <i>usual</i> by private hand. What a lucky dog you -are in receiving such <i>pounds</i> of stationery free of -cost, in a country where epistolary taxation is -calculated by weight? Adieu, till to-morrow.</p> - -<p>Well, yesterday is "numbered with the years -before the flood," and the company which, -while in perspective, I thought would be a -<i>gène</i>, turned out a resource, and gave us a great -deal to talk of when spirits were flagging, and -threatened to fail unless given fresh motion by -some new <i>impingement</i> from without. The -ladies who were asked did not come, and -the most prominent features among the gentlemen -of the country who made their appearance -were, Mr. Fitzallan, a man of large -fortune, generally an absentee, and Mr. Ridley, -another person of good estate, together -with their respective sons. The politics, manners, -and sentiments, in every possible department -of conversation between these neighbours -are north and south of each other, but as they -met <i>here</i> on neutral ground, and in a <i>lady's</i> -house, all was smooth to outward seeming. Mr. -Fitzallan is a <i>liberal</i>, and very eloquent; he <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span> -talked admirably on the rights of the people, -the errors of Administration, the total want of -honesty in Ministers; the shameful abuse of -power, peculation in every quarter, prostitution -of the national purse, and dereliction of -justice. He sat next to Mrs. Fitzroy, whose -animated countenance almost emitted <i>light</i>, as -she listened to a flow of mind so congenial with -her own. Mr. Ridley, on the opposite side, -who took his seat next my aunt, supported even -the very thickest skull to be found on the Ministerial -side of Lords and Commons. To a -person not immediately engaged in conversation -with either of our <i>leaders</i>, nothing could be -more comical than the effect of opposition in -the chance-medley of sounds that vibrated -round the table. It was what the printers call -<i>a pie</i>, when the <i>devils</i> have jumbled their types -into confusion. I heard liberty, authority, -equal rights, wholesome rule, universal suffrage, -Kingly prerogatives, emancipation, Protestant -ascendancy, the curse of tithes, the blessings -of an Established Church, &c. in the drollest -<i>mess</i> that could be imagined. When the speakers <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span> -descended from their stilts, and, quitting the -arena of dispute on public affairs, <i>meandered</i> -into the paths of private life, the same remarkable -difference was observable in the style of -our orators. Mr. Fitzallan talked with enthusiasm -of the peasantry of Ireland as the finest, -but most oppressed, people under Heaven; declaring -that West Indian slavery had nothing -to compare, in its horrors, with the subjugation -of this British island; this land of beauty, this -nursery of the brave. He told some striking -anecdotes of his own tenantry, who, he said, -would follow him to the confines of earth, and -that were he like Roderick Dhü, only to whistle -as he rode along, the whole country would -rise in his defence. When he spoke of his -family, he dwelt on the lovely innocence of -childhood, and said how hard he felt it even to -<i>look</i> angrily. All <i>discipline</i> he left entirely to -Mrs. Fitzallan, who was, he acknowledged, so -much wiser than himself, that he willingly relinquished -every title to controul, and gladly -confessed that he was <i>hen-pecked</i> and <i>chicken-pecked</i>, -and <i>pecked</i> in every possible manner of <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span> -<i>pecking</i>; adding, "I live, in fact, totally under -petticoat government, and find nothing suits -with my temper so pleasantly as to be led in all -things by my wife." Mr. Fitzallan's appearance -is very handsome, and his manners are -perfectly polished, which gave the most finished, -at the same time the most playful tone to every -thing he said, while Ridley looked as serious -in describing a game of German tactics to -Fanny, as if he had been delivering evidence -before a Committee of the House of Commons -on the Corn Laws. Young Fitzallan gave a -scowling glance at his father every time that he -spoke; and whenever he could slide in a word, -it was sure to be a <i>cut</i> at the difference between -theory and practice. Young Ridley, on the -contrary, seemed to hang with delight on every -word that his father uttered, though with the -most perfect freedom and considerable intelligence, -he sometimes ventured a flight in praise -of some of our Opposition men, who met with -no quarter from the old man. When the party -broke up in the evening Mrs. Fitzroy burst -into a glowing eulogium on Mr. Fitzallan, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span> -"who," she said, "was the most noble creature -she had met for ages. That man has such -heart, he is overflowing with love for his species, -and his views upon every subject are so -generous, so exalted, so comprehensive"—</p> - -<p>"That they comprehend <i>nothing</i>, madam," -interrupted Mr. Bentley in a high state of irritation. -"I repeat, madam," continued he, -"that you were never so mistaken in the course -of your life. This shewy man, who has attracted -so much of your admiration, possesses property -to a large amount in several counties in -Ireland. The agent whom he employs in this -part of the country, I know to be one of the -most grinding, heartless, fellows in creation. -Mr. Fitzallan is one of the worst landlords in -Ireland, and never does an act that is not dictated -by the grossest self-interest. In private -life he is a compound of pride and laxity. The -former governs his conduct with wife and children, -to all of whom he behaves in the most -imperious yet capricious manner; and, <i>though</i> -he has too little controul over <i>himself</i> to enforce -subordination in <i>others</i>, he is selfish and tyrannical <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span> -with all whose actions he can dare to command. -You might have observed how small a degree -of credit he has with his son, who dotes on -his mother, and resents, as far as he can, his -father's neglect of her. Madam, Mr. Fitzallan -fastened on your ear because you were a stranger, -and he found that he could play off an artillery -of <i>words</i> upon your ignorance of his true character.</p> - -<p>"Now there is honest Jack Ridley, whom you -did not condescend to address, I believe, for the -whole day; I would bet a sovereign that you -think every syllable of what I have told you -fits him to a <i>tee</i>, and that I am either an idiot or -a madman for having given you such an account -of your favourite. The <i>truth</i> is, that you and -I may exchange our portraits, and each will -then possess a good likeness, for my worthy -friend Jack is all that you ascribe to Mr. -Fitzallan. If he incline perhaps a little to what -is <i>now</i> called bigotry, it is in defence of his -King and his Church, though he would not hurt -the feelings of <i>any</i> man, whatever be his creed. -He is an excellent magistrate, one of the best <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span> -of landlords, and it is worth going from this to -Fort Ridley to see him in the midst of his -family. When he returns to-night, the smile -of welcome will greet his arrival. His son and -he are probably at this moment cheerfully discussing -in their way home the agreeable party -at Glenalta; and will make the fire-side group -partakers in every little incident or remark -that has occurred during the absence of two of -its members.</p> - -<p>"Were we to accompany the Fitzallans in -<i>their</i> homeward course, I promise you that -your enthusiasm would be plunged in an ice-bath -ere you had left this gate three perches behind -you. Imagine the father and son, fitted -like corner-cupboards into the extreme angles -of their carriage, asleep, or feigning sleep; knees -approximating, but not <i>touching</i>, towards the -centre. Arrived at the <i>Rialta</i> (foolish name), -the gentlemen contrive to separate without a -mutual "good night,"—no "blazing hearth," -no "crackling fagot;" no beaming open countenance -awaits their return. A silence dark -and chill as death pervades the mansion, and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span> -morning's sunny ray has no power over the -gloomy hearts that dwell within it. At the -Rialta absenteeism stares you in the face -whichever way you turn. Offices dilapidated, -plantations overgrown, gates off their hinges, -walls scolloped into gaps, weeds flourishing in -the very porch, paper hanging about your -ears, bell-ropes pulled down from their cranks, -furniture thinly scattered, old fashioned, yet -ill preserved, heavy, but not magnificent: these -are the dreary indications of approach to the residence -of a popular orator, who lives beyond -his means, and comes annually amongst his -tenants to obtain supplies which may enable -him to pass another year in estrangement from -their wants and their wishes.</p> - -<p>"At Fort Ridley you find tight cottages, whole -fences, trim gardens, clean walks, and warm -welcome. You hear no cant about a radical -reform; but you see progressive and constant -improvement. Your ears are not assailed by -cataracts of fine words, but your heart acknowledges -a continued flow of kindness and -good humour. You encounter no tirades about <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span> -liberty and equality, but you find all happy -in their <i>own places</i>. Parents walking hand-in-hand, -sustaining each other's authority, not -struggling for their own: children respectful -and affectionate: servants orderly and comfortable: -the poor protected: the unhappy consoled. -Mrs. Fitzroy, I only say, give me one -Ridley, man, woman, or child, and I will joyfully -contract to let you have as many Fitzallans -as you can steam away from us in your -packet. Take an old man's assurance, that -there is little <i>reality</i>, whenever you find much -<i>shew</i>. Good wine (the proverb says) needs no -bush; and when people <i>do</i>, they need not <i>talk</i>. -Things tell their own stories. "Be not solitary, -be not idle," is the conclusion of Johnson's -beautiful fiction on the Search after Happiness; -and Voltaire, the very opposite of our -great moralist in all but the possession of superior -talent, finishes his disgusting, but witty, -<i>Candide</i>, with words to the same effect, -'<i>Il faut cultiver le jardin</i>.'"</p> - -<p>"You always set your face against whatever -I approve," said Mrs. Fitzroy; "but Mr. Fitzallan <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span> -seems <i>quite</i> a practical man," added she, -"and that is the reason that I like him. All -his principles are pure; and, judging by what -I have seen, I should say they are reduced to -daily exercise, else how should he know so -much of the Irish peasantry, or be able to -relate so many interesting anecdotes respecting -them?"—"Why, madam," replied old Bentley, -"you might as well argue to the original -humour of a man who had learned Joe Miller -by heart. Mr. Fitzallan studies stage effect, -and has tragedy as well as comedy at his fingers' -ends. An Irish story, well purged from its yellow -clay, and dressed to advantage, is a nice -morsel, even in the heart of London, if you do -not stuff your friends with too much of a good -thing; and the gentleman of whom we are -speaking knows exactly how much pudding will -choke a dog."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Fitzroy is so genuinely diverted by Mr. -Bentley, that they always part the best friends -imaginable. He now shook hands and went -home. When he was gone, Mr. Otway said -of him, "There goes one of the bluntest, and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span> -yet the kindest, people I know. It would seem -as if Nature, in forming my worthy neighbour, -had been playing at hide-and-seek with herself; -for in his character there is a jumble of -the most heterogeneous materials: rude as a -bear, he is gentle as a lamb; and though sly -as a fox in detecting the wiles of his species, he -is one of the most single hearted persons I have -ever met with, in all his own dealings with -mankind. The penetration with which he -delves into character, is almost supernatural. -He decides on a counterfeit at a glance; and -though it is rarely his habit to indulge a sentimental -vein, you would be astonished by the -tenderness of feeling which sometimes softens -that rugged exterior. I know him so intimately -that I am aware of the contradictions in his -mind, and he is not ashamed of being <i>himself</i> -with me; but in common society he avoids the -least exhibition of softness, and is generally glad -when he has frightened strangers by his roughness, -though upon <i>occasion</i>, if he be in the <i>humour</i>, -I have known him delighted with individuals, -who, not repelled by his frown, have <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span> -braved opposition, and surmounted the obstacles -to his friendship.</p> - -<p>"Mrs. Fitzroy is a grand favourite, notwithstanding -<i>appearances</i>, and he told me to-day in -his own way of expressing sorrow for her departure, -that he expects to be like a fish out of -water when she bids farewell to Ireland."</p> - -<p>The word farewell struck as a knell on every -heart: dear Phil. sighed, and wished us good night; -and ere we separated to reap the harvest of his -blessing, Mrs. Fitzroy, in a few words, but most -comprehensively summed up <i>his</i> character.—"Aye," -said she, soliloquizing as he left the -room, "and there <i>you</i> go! the reviewer of reviews—the -critic of critics—possessing more of -every quality than you find to admire or value -in all the men of your acquaintance, yet bearing -your honours so meekly, with a mind so exquisitely -balanced, a temperament so calm, and -humility so lovely, that you allow anybody to -get before you and shine out his short-lived -triumph of display, while you in quiet majesty -pursue the equal tenor of your course, and, -like a mighty river, possessed between its banks, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span> -and full, 'though not o'erflowing,' wind onwards -to the sea."</p> - -<p>I close my journal here, and shall not open -the portfolio which contains it till I awaken in -the unwonted scenery of Grosvenor Square. -Adieu, Glenalta! thou sweetest Glen adieu! -As I turn from this beloved spot I feel inclined -to exclaim, "Fate drop the curtain—I can lose -no more."</p> - -<p>London!!! Oh, my dear Falkland, how -shall I take to my narrative, and resume -an occupation which <i>has been</i> so delightful, -but which loses its charm in this disgusting -round of idleness and dissipation? In any -other mood than that which I now am in, I -could dilate with melancholy pleasure on every -step of my journey. I could tell you that I felt -as if my heart would break when I lost sight -of the last mountain which is visible in the -distance from Glenalta. While I could gaze -upon its lofty peak, I felt as if some connecting -link still bound me to a place where all my -best affections were deposited; and when all -trace was lost of every object that continued <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span> -the illusion, I could not speak. The pang was -unutterable, and a thousand vague fancies -crowded over my mind, perplexing it "with -fear of change," and whispering unwelcome -thoughts that I should not revisit my Irish -home. There can be no <i>reason</i> for this, but -I find now by experience what I have <i>read of</i> -before, that low spirits enfeeble the understanding, -and make one start, though at nothing.</p> - -<p> -"'Tis only the willows that wave in the wind." -</p> - -<p>Yet the imagination conjures up phantoms of -ideal existence, and I worked myself into -such a dread of death, separation, misfortune, -and I know not what, that the turning of a -straw would have sent me back again, envious -of the very rocks that bent their faces towards -the happy valley which I left behind.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Fitzroy was a charming companion, for -she felt as I did; and we were neither of us inclined -to talk on any subject foreign to Glenalta.</p> - -<p>I cannot give you a detail of our progress. -We reached Dublin, where the bustle of a new -scene obliged us to turn our thoughts from those -dear friends, whose society we missed so grievously <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span> -on the preceding day. We rested only one -night, and, after a calm passage of seven hours, -found ourselves at Holyhead.</p> - -<p>Have you ever felt that as long as you are -<i>near</i> an object of attachment, the mind is restless -in the direct ratio of proximity, and, as you recede -from it, you become more satisfied, as it -would seem, from a feeling that every mile increases -the difficulty of contact, till impossibility -at length stares you in the face, and produces resignation -<i>per force</i>. Is not this the reason why -people who differ most widely from each other -in religion and politics are more tranquil, and -forbearing than such as are <i>all but</i> agreed? -The <i>little</i> difference, like the <i>mile</i> of separation, -seems to have no <i>right</i> to interpose a barrier, -and we are impatient accordingly that what appears -so easily surmountable does not give way -to our wishes. Mrs. Fitzroy and I, in the -course of our philosophizing, extended the same -principle to that disgust which is occasioned by -an attempt to carry imitation beyond a certain -limit. The painted statue is unpleasing, because -it assumes too much of similarity without <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span> -reaching identification; and we are nauseated -by the chattering of a monkey, who is <i>almost</i> -human, though we listen with pleasure to the -articulations of a parrot.</p> - -<p>Having left my fair charge in Worcestershire, -at the house of one of her friends, I hastened to -town, and found every thing here in the confusion -attendant upon hurry. My poor mother, -dreading an <i>explosion</i> on my part, laid her plans -so as to circumvent me completely, and, on the -plea of my uncle's sudden illness, which gives us -reason to expect him by the very next ship from -Bengal, instead of at the distance of some -months, Adelaide's marriage has been <i>got up</i> -without any of the usual forms, which my mother -trusts to her own ingenuity and generalship -for having executed as well <i>after</i>, as <i>before</i> -the ceremony. Behold then, on my arrival, the -whole house turned topsy-turvy—servants in -new liveries flying to and fro, white and silver -favours glittering on their breasts, and the wedding -party just returned from St. George's Chapel. -I could hardly find a place to dress in, -nor a creature to do any thing for me. Having, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span> -however, caught a flying lacquey, I desired that -Louisa only should be informed of my arrival, -and she ran for five minutes to bid me welcome. -Whether agitated by my return, or forced into -disapprobation of the graceless contract which -had just been solemnized, I cannot tell, but she -flew into my arms with a burst of emotion which -I had never seen before, and which deeply affected -me. Louisa is formed for better things -than she lives amongst; but she has had no conductor. -Oh may I henceforward be truly a -brother! May I be enabled to cultivate her -tenderness, and obtain an influence over her understanding! -We agreed that I should be allowed -to repose in peace, and that the breakfast, -departure of the <i>nouveaux mariés</i>, <i>cake-cutting</i>, -and all the idle mummery of a bridal day, should -go on without me.</p> - -<p>My sister returned to the banquet, and my -arrival was concealed from every body, till a -splendid travelling carriage drove off with Lord -and Lady Crayton, and all the <i>figurantes</i>, who -are brought together on these occasions to feed -the vanity of display, had dispersed. My mother <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span> -and Louisa joined the giddy throng, and -went to drive about the park, and exhibit the -hymeneal paraphernalia. I looked from a window -on the scene below, and sighed, as I thought -how differently a marriage would be conducted -at Glenalta.</p> - -<p>With eyes opened to a new order of things, -I could not help musing heavily on what I saw. -A deaf man suddenly introduced for the first time -into the midst of a ball room would think the -people all mad, whom he beheld jumping about, -without being able to hear the inspiring sounds -which gave activity to the feet. Perhaps, had I -been engaged in this nuptial pageant, it would -have seemed, as it did to those who had parts -to act in it; but to me it appeared, from an upper -story of the house, the most senseless piece -of parade that I had ever witnessed, rendered -melancholy by anticipations of events which I -perceived in the vista of Adelaide's futurity. -Various analogies started to my mind. I recollected -the gay deception which precedes the -sacrifice, when a poor nun is about to relinquish -the natural enjoyments of life, and lay down <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span> -her hopes and affections on the altar of superstition. -I thought of her, when dressed in all -the trappings of this world's glory, she is led, -more frequently deceived than deceiving, to the -temple, there to resign her liberty and happiness, -perhaps her life, and become the sorrowing -victim of an ill-fated vow.</p> - -<p>In the gloomy solitude of a large house, emptied -of its inhabitants, I had scope for much disagreeable -meditation, and wandered from room -to room, reflecting with sad foreboding, on what -is likely to be the lot of poor Adelaide, and ruminating -on the heavy expenses incurred by my -mother to seal a bond of misery. The furniture -of all our principal apartments is new and -sumptuous, of the last Parisian fashion, and -chosen with the best taste. The housekeeper -told me that a splendid new carriage had been -purchased, and that every thing connected with -this marriage had been done in the "best-possible -manner."</p> - -<p>My mother and Louisa returned late, and -much fatigued. With the former I had but -little conversation. She met me with an air of <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span> -great displeasure, and I fear that the only way by -which I can reinstate myself in her favour will -prove a destructive one. My property is already -burthened to a large amount, and to extricate my -mother I must plunge myself a great deal deeper -in debt. This must be done, however, as I will -use my best endeavours to set her mind at ease.</p> - -<p>Poor Louisa and I sat up till morning, and, -though her mind is a complete chaos, she has -too much natural strength of character not to -perceive the folly, as well as meanness, of the -late arrangement, in which each side has been -trying to outwit the other. I find that the -Craytons set out directly after the ceremony for -Dover, and are on their route to the continent, -where their sojournment is to be regulated by -circumstances. "Pecuniary difficulties," though -not defined, are confessed to, <i>generally</i>, by my -new brother-in-law, who gives his title in the -hope of being paid for it in solid gold; and I -suspect that we shall find, ere long, how much -his creditors have been cajoled by an assurance -that between General Douglas and me, all their -demands will be satisfied. If the speculation of <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span> -my uncle's assistance should fail, as much as the -hope of aid from me must necessarily do, I see -no prospect of aught but beggary for my unfortunate -sister.</p> - -<p>Were we in the country, I should not despair -of operating a great change in Louisa's opinions; -but I have scarcely an opportunity of saying a -sentence to her in private. My mother does -not like to see us alone, and the interruptions -from company are incessant. I proposed going -to Selby, and should have found no difficulty in -prevailing, for in fact we are ridiculously out of -season <i>here</i>, but my uncle is certainly coming, -and so speedily, that he may land while I am -writing. All the people of <i>note</i> in town at present -are, Louisa tells me, brought together by -this marriage, which is flattering to those who -take pride in it; but, not being of that number -myself, I long to be set free, and when I <i>am</i>, no -time shall be lost in joining you as quickly as -possible. If I do not <i>soon</i> set out for Paris, you -shall hear again from, my dear Falkland,</p> - -<p class="right"><span class="padding-right4">Your affectionate,</span><br /> -<span class="smcap padding-right2">A. Howard.</span> -</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - -<p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span></p> - -<h2>LETTER XXIII.</h2> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Dr. Pancras to Mr. Otway.</span></p> - -<p class="right padding-right2"><i>Limner's Hotel.</i></p> -<p>Sir,</p> - -<p>I am commissioned to notify the arrival in -England of your friend General Douglas, and -to inform you that in the present state of his -health, he feels himself incompetent to any manner -of exertion. He has been so ill on the voyage, -as to excite my constant apprehension lest -I might not enjoy the happiness of delivering up -my patient alive to his friends. He has been -somewhat better since we arrived in the Channel, -and I have no doubt that a little rest will be -of much benefit; but as he means to remain in -town for the arrival of another ship, which sailed -when we did, and on board which is a part of -his baggage, he will have the best medical advice -here, and proceed at leisure to Marsden, the -place which you were so good as to purchase for -him. The principal object of this letter is to <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span> -entreat, that if not very inconvenient, you will -come over, and allow your friend the pleasure of -shaking you by the hand once more. He bids -me tell you, that he has much to say, and that -the power of communicating with you upon several -subjects near his heart, would contribute -more than any medicine to his recovery. May -it be permitted a stranger to enforce this request, -by adding his testimony to the General's own -conviction? It is not the physician who "can -minister unto a mind diseased;" it is the <i>friend</i> -alone who can sooth and sustain the sinking -spirits, and I look upon my patient as requiring -<i>your</i> advice as much as he does mine, though I -have had long knowledge of his complaints, and -have accompanied him from India. I will not -longer trespass on your attention than to request -an immediate answer, saying whether or not you -can comply with the entreaty of which I am the -medium.</p> - -<p class="right"> -<span class="padding-right15">I am, Sir,</span><br /> -<span class="padding-right4">your obedient,humble servant,</span><br /> -<span class="smcap padding-right2">A. Pancras.</span><br /> -</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - -<p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span></p> - -<h2>LETTER XXIV.</h2> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">From Miss Douglas to Miss Sandford.</span></p> - -<p> -My dearest Julia, -</p> - -<p>It is some time since you have heard from -me, and in the interval much has happened to -disturb our even course of life. The departure of -our friends, particularly that of Arthur, produced -a degree of desolation at Glenalta, which can only -be understood by such as have felt the pangs of -separation from those they love. When <i>you</i> -left us, a similar chasm was made in our happiness, -but you could not comprehend our feelings, -though you were very sorry to say farewell. -You were <i>going</i>, we were <i>staying</i>, and supposing -the same measure of affection, there must be a -wide difference between the situation of a mind -presented continually with new objects that force -themselves on the observation, and one that is -bound in all the melancholy associations of that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span> -scene which had witnessed its happiness. The -fresh air, the constant movement, the necessity -of speaking and interesting oneself in the details -of a journey, must save the heart much -bitterness, which is reserved for the saddened -spirits left behind. I never shall forget the -tomb-like silence that pervaded our cheerful -abode when the last sound of the carriage wheels, -that bore away dear Mrs. Fitzroy and Arthur, -were no longer to be heard. We <i>then</i> only -seemed to feel the full extent of our deprivation.</p> - -<p>Charlotte and I, unable to occupy ourselves, -wandered like ghosts. Oh the emptiness of a -bedchamber from which your friend has just -departed! The pillow still bearing impress of -the head which had rested on it so recently; -the spikes of lavender scattered on the floor, -which, perhaps, you had gathered yourself in a -happier hour, to give fragrance to the now vacant -wardrobe; the back of a letter inscribed -with the name that now stops your utterance, -and the thousand other trifles, light as air, that -take affection by surprise, and make one wretched -through every fibre of the frame! Fanny's <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span> -grief had quicker vent; she wept, till like a babe -that cries itself to sleep, nature <i>would</i> have rest; -and I envied her the power of listening with -rapture, to the history of some young cygnets, -which old Lawrence had got from Bantry as -a present for her. Frederick was sincerely sorrowful, -but he was obliged to attend to Mr. Oliphant, -and his mind was relieved by the necessity -of being employed.</p> - -<p>The beloved mother who suffers more than -she enjoys society, always returns to the stillness -of retirement, glad to repose after exertion, -and rewarded by the happy feeling of having -practised self-denial in order to make others -happy.</p> - -<p>Charlotte and I then were the <i>miserable</i> of -our little circle, and the kind Phil. accordingly -gave his principal attention to us. He insisted -on our being <i>busy</i>. He drove us to our gardens, -to our poor people, to the schools, all of -which had been less carefully watched, while -our friends were with us. How slow is the progress -of improvement. How rapid the growth -of whatever is baleful in its nature! We found <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span> -much to reclaim, and were ashamed, as well as -astonished to find how things may go astray, and -run to ruin, while one is only pursuing what -appears an innocent gratification. Well, it -shall not happen again. We have now restored -matters to their former good order, and -if we enjoy less <i>pleasure</i> than we did in the -midst of more varied attraction; I feel more -contentment and less self-reproach, since we -have resumed our accustomed course. I now -understand that of which it was so difficult to -convince me, namely, that <i>company</i>, however -delightful, is too stimulating for a continuance, -and that it is very wholesome to be left alone -now and then with one's own heart.</p> - -<p>Letters (that blessed invention) have informed -us constantly of all that is interesting in -the lives and adventures of our absent friends; -but the last accounts from Arthur have distressed -mamma, and produced commotion in -our tranquil valley.</p> - -<p>My poor uncle is in short arrived, and so ill -that his physician has written to beg Mr. Otway's -immediate presence in London. It is <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span> -thought right that Frederick should accompany -him as a proper mark of respect, and also to -add weight to mamma's request, that should -our mild climate be considered advisable for -the invalid, he will repair as soon as possible to -Glenalta.</p> - -<p>To lose Frederick and our friend of Lisfarne -at one and the same moment is a stroke which -needs some philosophy to endure; and I am -afraid that we are not bearing it as we ought to -do. Then I cannot help feeling sadly afraid of -uncle Douglas, who is, Arthur says, very <i>repellent</i> -in his manners. Poor man! he suffers -much, and it is unreasonable to expect that he -should be agreeable in his present circumstances; -but I am so accustomed to the sweet -accents of gentleness and affection, that nothing -terrifies me so much as the idea of severity. I -feel still more for mamma than for myself, and -as the general has apparently taken a dislike -already, Arthur tells us, to my aunt Howard -and Louisa, why should we expect better at the -hands of one, governed, perhaps, by prejudice -against all his family, with whom he has kept up <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span> -very little intercourse?</p> - -<p>Mr. Otway and Frederick set out next week, -and but for the delight I have in the hope that -they will soon return, and the latter be happy -in his cousin's society, while he is enjoying his -first visit to London, I should be inconsolable.</p> - -<p>We have had intelligence of Lord and Lady -Crayton's arrival in Rome, where young Stanhope -has seen them. Lord C. is fond of play, -and poor Adelaide Howard, I am afraid, is destined -to be any thing but blessed in her union -with him. What can induce people to make -the sacrifice of liberty and peace for the sake of -a paltry title? Perhaps I am careless about -such things only because I am placed in a situation -where they are of little value; but a coronet -seems of small estimation in my eyes, and I -wish that my cousin had a husband less extravagant -and more domestic, though plain Mr. -instead of Viscount, preceded his name. He -and Adelaide are to pass the winter in Paris.</p> - -<p>You bid me to describe our late visitors. To -say that we found them a very agreeable addition -to our party, is saying nothing that will help <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span> -you to distinguish one from the other. Yet -beyond some such general description, what can -tell of strangers? If you delineate the features -of a landscape, you can speak not only of them -as they seem, but as they <i>are</i>; but what a -length of time is required to guard against misrepresentation -in painting the human character, -of which we can for a long while only know the -<i>signs</i>, but may remain in profound ignorance of -the motives which govern them!</p> - -<p>You may remember how much I used to admire -Miss Talbot. I saw her frequently last -summer, when she looked so pretty, and was so -kind to me, that I became quite enthusiastic in -her praise; and should have been very foolish -about her, if mamma had not damped my -energy, by saying one day, "dearest Emily, do -not take so much for granted: wait to know -Miss Talbot better before you give her <i>all</i> your -heart." I felt that there must be good reason -for this reproof, or I should not have received -it. I paused, and ceasing to inflate my mind -with my own exaggerations, mistaking them for -realities, I <i>did</i> wait to know Miss Talbot better,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span> -and one <i>look</i>, though unaccompanied by a -word, darted at her father, who asked for a particular -song which she did not choose to sing, -levelled the whole edifice of my admiration to -the dust. The same song which she had refused -to a parent's request, she <i>volunteered</i> when Mr. -Mortimer Fitzallan came into the room, saying, -in her sweetest accents, and with her winning -smile, "I will now sing <i>your</i> favourite." To -return after a digression, which contains my -apology for not attempting to give you exact -portraits of our guests, I will proceed to say, -that as far as I am acquainted with them, I like -Mr. Annesley better than Mr. Russell, and <i>both</i> -pleased me, though not in the same manner. -The former is more gentle and reflecting than -his friend, the latter full of music and of merriment; -but one is not always merry, and if <i>not</i>, -Mr. Russell's animal spirits fatigue. Then, as -to music, I think that he likes it less for its own -sake, than as a subject on which to be eloquent. -Mr. Annesley <i>says</i> less, but <i>does</i> more than the -other, in the way of those little polite attentions -which mark a wish to please; and he looks so <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span> -sincere, that one feels always ready to <i>believe</i> -whatever he utters, while the wandering eye of -his companion would indicate that his thoughts -are every where, or no where, though his tongue -be employed in giving to them the liveliest expression. -Mr. Annesley's animation arises out -of the occasion, while Mr. Russell is ever intent -on <i>seeking</i> opportunity to exhibit <i>his</i>. In conversing -with the one, you find your spirits -refreshed by the natural alternation of stimulus -and repose. In talking to the other, you are -made to feel that a certain measure of excitement -is to be <i>run out</i>; after which, you must -lie by to recruit, ere you commence anew. -They are both polished, and have received all -the advantages of modern education, and thus -ends my story of them.</p> - -<p>Mamma will write to dear Mrs. Sandford, -when she can tell her of <i>the general's</i> movements. -Have you ever remarked how many -people tack an emphatic <i>the</i> to any admiral, -general, colonel, dean, or archdeacon, accidentally -appended to their family, just as if there -were no other of each class in the world beside <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span> -their own? Adieu, dearest Julia: our united -loves to all at Checkley.</p> - -<p class="right"> -<span class="padding-right6">Believe me, ever your</span><br /> -<span class="padding-right2">Affectionate friend,</span><br /> -<span class="smcap padding-right2">Emily Douglas.</span><br /> -</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span></p> - -<h2>LETTER XXV.</h2> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Frederick Douglas to his Mother.</span></p> - -<p> -Beloved Mother, -</p> - -<p>Our dear Phil. insisted on writing the first -letter from London, and as this point was settled -before we left Glenalta, you have not -charged me with neglect; forgetful I can never -be. You all live continually in my thoughts; -I fancy how you are all employed during every -part of the day, and never see any thing that -delights or surprises me, without wishing that -my mother and sisters were to enjoy whatever -is worthy of their admiration. This is to me a -scene of wonder, and I have a great deal of -trouble in suppressing too true an exhibition of -my rusticity, and curbing my astonishment at -things so common, that no one here could comprehend -my ignorance of them. London is a -world full of interest to a novice like myself, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span> -and while the charm of novelty lasts, and curiosity -is kept alive, I shall find as much happiness -as I can feel away from you; but the people -with whom I meet at my aunt Howard's, though -I am told that they are of the first circle, have -little merit, I must confess, in my eyes. I ought -however, to begin with the <i>hosts</i>, before I -describe the company. My aunt is as unlike -you, as Louisa is different from Emily, Charlotte, -or Fanny. The former is so rouged, so -dressed, and made up, that a natural emotion, -if any such live within her breast, has no power -to reach the surface. Every feature seems fixed, -as though she were a <i>cast</i>, and not a real human -form of flesh and blood. Her manners are so -cold, and her eye so disdainful, that had I come -to Grosvenor-square <i>alone</i>, one glance would -have been enough to settle my resolves not to -encounter a second; but she treats Arthur, her -only son, and <i>certainly</i> a favourite, as frigidly as -she behaves to me; and with her daughter, -there is a perpetual <i>sparring</i> kept up, which to -my unaccustomed ear is perfectly dreadful, -though at the same time, she is evidently vain <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span> -of Louisa's beauty and accomplishments. To -Mr. Otway she is <i>civil</i>, and towards my poor -uncle, <i>officious</i> to excess, without being <i>able</i> to -look kind. My cousin is very handsome, and if -she had been <i>your</i> child, would, I believe, have -been very amiable, for she is good-natured, in -spite of every effort to make her the contrary; -and her love for Arthur is genuine, I believe, -though of a species very new to me. Her person -is encumbered with ornaments, and her -mind with fashion. Her understanding is excellent, -and <i>will</i> break its bounds, and start forth -through all the London fogs that would obscure -its light; but it is only in accidental scintillations -that Louisa's brightness discovers itself, -and <i>then</i>, sarcasm is generally the medium -through which it shines; nothing can exceed -the stupid inanity of such conversation as I -hear at my aunt's, where <i>people</i> only are ever -discussed. It is one eternal round of dress, -public places, and gossip. <i>Every</i> body is said -to be out of town, yet the streets are full. -<i>Nobody</i> is ever in London at this season, yet -the Howards live in a crowd of society, and <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span> -would be very angry with <i>any</i> body who ventured -to affirm that their acquaintance is not -<i>first-rate</i>. Mr. Otway reconciles many apparent -incongruities through his explanations, when -we reach our lodgings at night, and I am already -bidding fair to part with the nick-name which -Louisa has bestowed upon me of the "novice -of Saint Patrick." My <i>Mentor</i> tells me, that -London is in fact, at this moment, full of -people who are ashamed of not being at their -country seats, the watering places, or on the -continent; and are detained here <i>malgrè</i> for -want of money to go elsewhere, or pay off the -bills which continue daily to increase, while they -remain in town, <i>shying</i> each other. It is true -that the people do not imprison themselves: -they meet in the streets, in the shops, in the -park, at the theatres; but there seems to be a -conventional agreement to tell lies, which are -permitted, like base metal, to circulate in the -place of sterling coin, though known to be -counterfeit by all who use it as a medium of -exchange. There is a sort of <i>sinister</i> honesty -in this compact, as deception is avoided in the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span> -universality of the fraud. One family is detained -by Dr.——, who will not suffer his patient -to undertake as yet a journey to Leamington. -Another is just <i>going</i> to France. A third -<i>waits</i> for a carriage which has been promised by -the coachmaker, but is not <i>quite</i> finished, and -so on. Not a word of truth in any of the -stories. A country bumpkin, however, benefits -by all this <i>charlatanerie</i>, and finds food for eyes, -ears, and reflection, at a time when the metropolis -ought to be according to the rules of <i>haut -ton</i>, a perfect desert.</p> - -<p>The friendship of Arthur sets me at ease. -Were it not for him, I should sneak into a -corner I suppose, and not dare to utter a word -for fear of <i>committing</i> some Hibernicism, and -bring the eyes of Europe upon me; but, supported -by my faithful Achates, I am bold, and -you would perhaps be astonished to see me -<i>doing the agreeable</i> at my aunt's evening parties. -I assure you that I make my way surprisingly, -and am beginning to feel rather triumphant. -Louisa put me through a sort of ordeal which -was unpleasant enough for three or four days; <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span> -but Arthur gave me a few hints behind the -scenes which enabled me to come off victorious, -and now like a <i>freshman</i> at school, who has -<i>boxed</i> himself into character, I am <i>let alone</i>, -and actually applied to, for my opinions upon -"Shakspeare, taste, and the musical glasses." -Some contrivance is necessary, however, to slide -out of a group when it happens that a cross -subject is started; but in general, I find myself -<i>au fait</i>, for a grain of intellect, like a grain of gold -will hammer out into surface enough to cover a -prodigious field of "worshipful society;" and if -you are quick in picking up names, admiring -the right music, the fashionable singer, the favourite -novel, and the <i>newest</i> of every thing, -you need not draw unmercifully on your brains, -nor put your eyes in danger of Opthalmia, by -poring over the midnight lamp. I fancy Emily -and Charlotte, with inquiring eyes, pressing -forward together, to ask Frederick whether his -soul has not been entranced by the finished performance -of our London <i>belles</i> on the harp and -piano-forte.</p> - -<p>Dearest girls, publish it not in Gath, if I <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span> -whisper the homespun confession, and tell you -in depth of secrecy, that pleasure is a stranger -to me at our concerts. I hear compositions so -chromatic, modulations so unnatural, transitions -so violent, and harmony so entirely divested of -the character which I have been in the habit of -attaching to it, that, were it not for information -to the contrary, I should not be aware that I -was listening to music at all, but should imagine -myself introduced to a new and wonderful -mechanism for exhibiting the muscular powers -to their utmost extent, and also trying how far -it is practicable to exert the licence of caprice -without ever touching on the borders of melody. -In the same spirit of confidential avowal I may -add, that there seems to be a strict covenant between -the modern composers and the instrument-makers -to murder music, and prevent a -concerto, as well as the piano-forte on which it -is performed, from a longer existence in the -fashionable world than will be allotted to the -preposterous flat hats, which only require poles -supporting their circumference, to give the Regent's-park -exactly the air of an encampment. <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span> -Another musical observation which I have -made, is, that every young lady on first setting -down, and running over the keys of the finest -Stoddart or Broadwood, piped, barred, and -<i>dandified</i>, according to the very latest vogue, -declares the instrument to be out of tune. -Quere, is this to make boast of an exquisite ear, -or is it done to bespeak mercy for imperfect -execution? In either case, to produce <i>effect</i> it -should not be a <i>general</i> fashion; and there -should be at least a foundation of truth in the -complaint; but it literally happened yesterday -evening, that Louisa's magnificent instrument -had been put into the highest order only half -an hour before the company arrived, and yet the -fair competitors for fame were not a whit the better -satisfied. Perhaps after all it is necessary to -talk a little nonsense, and tumble over the leaves -of whatever music is open on the desk, to -gain time for shaking back the manacles which -load the wrists of a fashionable lady with such -<i>shekels</i> of gold that their weight is apt to determine -the blood towards her finger tops. This -is an inconvenience, and certainly an alloy to <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span> -the pleasure of exhibiting richer ornaments than -were ever <i>à la mode</i> till now, but what advantage -is there without its counterpoise? It is -unlucky too that necklaces are <i>out</i>, as they afforded -great opportunity in perpetual fiddling -with them to regulate the <i>circulation</i>, and shew -off bracelets and rings in the best possible position -for securing white hands and arms, during -the time being.</p> - -<p>Dearest mother, do I see you shake your -head, and call this ill nature? If I thought that -a shadow of displeasure glanced over that brow -on which I pray unceasingly that I may never -be the means of gathering a cloud, I would -make a vow against opening my eyes to the ridiculous -while I remain in London; but I hope -that even <i>you</i> will laugh with me at the absurdities -which we must be blind not to see, and -dumb not to tell of. If the sisters imagine that -my heart is likely to be perforated like a <i>cullender</i>, -tell them that not a single missile has -reached it as yet,</p> - -<p> -"Th' invaders dart their jav'lins from afar." -</p> - -<p>Nevertheless, I am safe, and likely to remain <i>unscathed</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span> -by any lightning from London eyes. -This is fortunate; for what chance would a -poor Kerry <i>bog-trotter</i> have of meeting "sweet -return" in this meridian blaze—this dazzling -glare?</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poem"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">"For sight no obstacle found here, or shade,</div> -<div class="line">But all sunshine; as when his beams at noon</div> -<div class="line">Culminate from the Equator."</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>I love our dear Glen better than any -scenery that I have met with since I left its -sunny lawns and tangled dells; and, if I may -be allowed to compare the moral with the physical -world, there is an enchanting refreshment -in the lights and shades of a refined yet <i>natural</i> -character, beyond all the glow of fashion's artificial -splendour to impart.</p> - -<p>Last night I sat for a short time by a -young lady who had something pensive in -her countenance, which brought Emily to -my mind: and feeling a sort of <i>attraction</i> -towards her, I listened to her conversation, -in which, hearing some words through the -din of voices, that bespoke a love of painting -and sculpture, I determined on getting <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span> -<i>alongside</i>, as the sailors say. I did so, and we -talked of the Exhibition, the Elgin Marbles, -Sir Thomas Lawrence, Chauntry, Canova, &c. -but <i>talk</i> it was, aye, "<i>vox et preterea nihil</i>." -Not a particle of enthusiasm had reached her -mind, it only flickered round her lips. She -had been in Rome, had seen Naples, visited -the Louvre, ransacked every <i>atelier</i> of every -celebrated artist in her travels; and, as a matter -of course, is come back discontented with every -thing in England. I sought as vainly for a -single grain of taste in her conversation as I -generally do for a strain of sweetness in the -music which I daily hear: no;—terms of art -and fashionable echoes met my ear, but not a -sentiment that originated in feeling: no description -drawn by a pencil dipped in the -heart.</p> - -<p>I ventured to say something, I know not -what, but my remark was my own; I was not -to be found, I suppose, in the common-place -book acknowledged at present, as the reception -that it encountered was a rude burst of laughter, -in which my fair antagonist's mamma, who <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span> -came to present Lord Oldfield to her daughter, -joined immediately, and I should have been the -<i>butt</i> of the company, I conclude, if my happy -stars had not sent a nobleman to my rescue, -who so entirely engrossed the attention of both -mother and <i>ma'mselle</i>, that a <i>mouse</i> would -have been a greater object than I was. Otway's -lines rushed on my memory as I gazed indignantly -on this vulgar pair; for how can I give -them any more appropriate epithet? When I -looked around me, and rested my eyes on the -<i>wool-pack</i>, matrons lounging in their easy -chairs so large and languid, I could not help -mentally exclaiming,</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poem"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">"Those lazy owls, who, perched near Fortune's top,</div> -<div class="line">Sit only watchful with their heavy wings</div> -<div class="line">To cuff down new-fledged Virtues that would rise</div> -<div class="line">To nobler heights, and make the grove harmonious."</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>I suppose that the immense size of the elderly -ladies here, must proceed, from the little -exercise they take, and <i>that</i> little in a carriage -which is next to not taking any; but I am told -that it is the fashion to be <i>monstrous</i>, and if -beauty be reckoned by weight and measure, the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span> -tonnage and poundage of London are prodigious.</p> - -<p>When Lord Oldfield left my aunt's to -vapour at another party, the above-mentioned -young lady of pensive mien, seemed to recollect -that she had treated me somewhat cavalierly, -or perhaps she was amused by my <i>outlandish</i> -ways of thinking, and returned to look at me, -as people used to do at the Cherokee chiefs, or -Sandwich Islanders; but from whatever motive, -so it was, that she called me to her, and with a -smile of such <i>concentration</i> as appeared to say, -"<i>Sauve qui peut</i>," she invited me to attend her -to-day and look at some statues, at the house of -an Italian newly arrived. Now I had charity -enough to believe that she had only <i>heard</i> of -them as fine specimens of sculpture, and was ignorant -altogether of what she was going to see; -but before I could reply, she added that she had -begun to model from a Cupid in the collection, -and hoped that I should approve her performance. -Arthur and I had been to see these -statues two or three days ago, and all I can say -is, that as I have not yet had the advantage of <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span> -<i>case-hardening</i> on the continent, I blushed as I -bowed a seeming assent, resolving to make my -excuse this morning, which I have accordingly -done.</p> - -<p>If modesty be really one of those cumbrous -virtues, which, like the ponderous armour of -former days, is no longer necessary in the high -state of civilization to which we have attained, -why is not the word honestly banished along -with the quality which it represents? and why -do we foolishly retain the sign, if we must lose -sight of the idea to which it belongs? It would -be wrong, perhaps, to charge a modern fair one -with actual vice because she can walk with -perfect unconcern through files of statues -representing the human form in a state of -nudity, and <i>that</i> too in company, it may be, of a -profligate man; but I <i>must</i> say, that to my untutored -sense, the thing is very disgusting; and -as London is certainly not the Garden of Eden, -I should venture to add, that the practice is not -very safe, unless moral virtue be no longer considered -requisite to the well-being of the community, -but with other antiquities is to be only <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span> -reserved for the cabinets of the curious; <i>there</i>, -as we view it clothed in venerable rust, to -excite our astonishment at the difference between -the clumsy accoutrements of our ancestors, -and the convenient accommodations of our -own time.</p> - -<p>I am interrupted by Mr. Otway, who sends -his love, and bids me say, that he has a letter -on the <i>anvil</i>; so I will send mine. But I have -been led into the mazes of this brilliant scene, so -far remote from <i>domestic</i> subjects, that I find -not a word in all my prosing of poor uncle, -for whom I feel both tenderness and respect. -He suffers much, and, if I am not greatly mistaken, -has "that within which passeth shew." -His mind appears to me as if it had gone out of -Nature's loom a goodly tissue, but has been -pulled <i>bias</i> by untoward circumstances of fortune -and ill health. As yet I know very little -of him, and he is so reserved with his relations, -that were there not certain loop-holes -through which I peep into the interior, and -thence form judgment of his true texture, the <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span> -first and second words of Cæsar's <i>triplicate</i> -would answer every purpose of description in -my instance; and in saying <i>veni vidi</i>, I should -tell you all that is to be known; but I sometimes -see him shake his head, and catch him -now and then, his eyes suffused with tears, -and fixed intently on me. The moment of -observation is that of change, and, as a person -who has dropped asleep in Church, coughs, -hems, and kicks his heels, to <i>prove</i> how much -awake he is, so my uncle throws a tartness, -an abruptness, into his manner after one of -these little affectionate <i>lapses</i>, to assure us of -the sternness of his character. My next shall -be to Emily.</p> - -<p>Adieu, beloved! My heart is with you -all, though the <i>casket</i> be far from you. -I shall have much to tell the three, <i>Graces</i> -I <i>will</i> not call them, Furies I <i>cannot</i> call them: -what then <i>shall</i> I call them? They shall be -the <i>Destinies</i>, because my fate is in their hands, -and as they love and value me through life, -I shall be happy or the contrary.</p> - -<p>Remember me affectionately, if you please, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span> -to dear Mr. Oliphant, and do not drive your -little car from the door without telling Lawrence -that I enquire for him. Farewell!</p> - -<p class="right"><span class="padding-right4">Your own</span><br /> -<span class="smcap padding-right3">Frederick.</span><br /> -</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - -<p> <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span></p> - -<h2>LETTER XXVI.</h2> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Mr. Otway to Mrs. Douglas.</span></p> - - -<p> -Dearest Friend, -</p> - -<p>My former letters have been faithful transcripts -from the book of our lives, and Frederick -has filled up all interstices, but before I proceed -to the main purpose which induces me to write -to-day, I must indulge myself, and not <i>displease -you</i>, by saying a few words of this dear -youth, whom I have hitherto only mentioned -incidentally, because I wished to see how he -would bear the whirl of a London scene, and -comport himself in some situations as trying -as they were novel to him, ere I trumpeted -his praise. You know how I abhor flattery, -and will therefore give me credit for believing -what I express of admiration for your son, who -really astonishes me. Though introduced for <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span> -the first time to what is called, certainly not -<i>par excellence</i>, the Great World, he is neither -awkward nor confused. The easy polish of -<i>true</i> refinement which he learned at home, in the -bosom of that loved retreat where all the best -affections of his noble and manly heart are centered, -<i>frank</i> him into a metropolitan drawing-room, -as fearlessly as into your's at Glenalta; -and his manners exhibit the happiest combination -of boldness, in which there is no mixture -of presumption, and modesty without <i>mauvaise -honte</i>. With all the freshness of curiosity, and -the candour of one who disdains subterfuge, he -flies about collecting information—gratifying -his good taste, and honestly confessing his previous -ignorance of a thousand objects which -have ceased to stimulate, if they ever did so, -the vapid group by which we are environed. -The courage with which Frederick dares to express -his own thoughts, instead of borrowing -the hacknied reverberation of opinions often -adopted without discrimination, and rendered -current by an idle multitude, who, contented to <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span> -follow a fashionable leader, never exert a faculty -for themselves, has something in it that <i>commands</i> -attention, and I continually hear the inquiry -of "who is he?" succeed the avowal of -some sentiment on his part at variance with the -modish creed.</p> - -<p>If the novelty of Frederick's remarks occasionally -excite a smile, it is evidently always -accompanied with a desire to know more of -him. Even those who would not, for any consideration, -imitate his example, involuntarily -respect the <i>power</i> of his valorous intrepidity; -and that which in a vulgar man would be denominated -mere boorishness, assuming a very different -character when associated with native -elegance and good breeding, the automaton -throng are forced to admit the superiority which -they dare not copy, and venerate the independence -to which they cannot aspire. I assure you -also, that he is an object of great admiration -amongst the young ladies, one of whom having -heard, I suppose, that he was an Irishman, -sweetly lisped a few evenings ago, in half articulated <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span> -accents, "<i>le bel sauvage!</i>" Tell Fanny -that this anecdote is <i>genuine</i>, which she may be -at first inclined to doubt; and tell her likewise -that many a pretty head is half turned round to -see that Frederick lingers near the harp or -piano-forte, though he <i>does</i> come from that</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poem"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent12">"Land of bogs,</div> -<div class="line">With ditches fenced—a Heaven fat with fogs."</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p><i>This</i> information will not surprise his sisters, -who have frequently experienced his dexterity -in turning over the leaves of a music book; -and for his dear mother's particular gratification -I must add, that I know not when I have -been more delighted with my young friend since -we left home together, than when any appeal to -his free will has elicited the declaration of his -entire dependence on the wishes of a parent. -There is something affectingly beautiful in the -generous openness, the amiable devotion, with -which this fine young man, just arrived at the -period of life so trying to the silly pride that -struggles against the semblance of authority, -refers to <i>your</i> wishes and opinion, upon every <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span> -occasion when he is called upon to enter into -projects for future amusement; and this not in -the low tone and creeping attitude of fear or -bashfulness, but with the erect air of honest -strength, that glories in the fond submission, -where love and duty bid it yield. His uncle's -discriminating eye has already marked these -things without a prompter's aid; and every little -instance which indicates <i>character</i>, is registered -with evident pleasure in favour of Frederick, -by the acute discernment of my poor -friend, on whom it is now time to say that I -have prevailed, in concert with Dr. Pancras, a -very worthy man, who accompanied him from -India, in quality of attending physician, to give -up all thoughts of going to Marsden for the -present. He is totally unfit to undertake a -house and establishment of his own, at this -time, and will require a long exemption from -care of every kind. His bodily frame is debilitated -to a great degree, and his mind calls for -every strengthener, too, that can be administered -to invigorate its tone. His character is deeply <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span> -interesting, and his situation mental, as well as -corporeal, extremely critical. The moral atmosphere -in which he is to be placed during -the next six months appears, if possible, more -important to his future happiness than the climate -in which he is to breathe is of consequence -to his health; and no part of the globe furnishes -such a union of all that he stands in need of as -Glenalta; I have therefore urged his passing -the winter in our valley. Till this morning I -could not obtain an answer, but at length he -promises to try an experiment, not, however, -<i>binding</i> himself to any definite period of sojournment -amongst us. When truth and delicacy -preside at the helm, there is no danger of steering -a wrong course. It is the manoeuvrer -only who requires a pilot; your guileless nature -needs no <i>hints</i> for regulating your conduct towards -this interesting invalid, and it is only to -make you in some measure acquainted with, -not to guide you in the <i>management</i> of his peculiarities, -that I dwell upon the description of -them. <i>You</i> knew nothing of your brother before <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span> -he went to India, and we have all lost -sight of him for many years; I cannot therefore -attempt to pursue, in any concatenated -series, the circumstances which have made him -what he is. I can only trace <i>effects</i>, and judge -from the data furnished by these to my observations -of what the <i>causes</i> may have been. -Since we have been together, a thousand trifling -occurrences have assisted me in developing a -character which must be unrolled with as much -nicety as is required to spread open the Pompeïan -manuscripts. The slightest accident -would prove fatal in either case, and one rude -touch would so effectually destroy the delicate -fabric of one and the other, as to render fruitless -any after attempt at deciphering the contents. -I was engaged in studying whatever had -arisen naturally to my view, when I one day, -as usual, went to visit him directly after breakfast; -he was not in the room when I entered, -and I found a volume of Shakspeare open on -the table, at which he had been reading. The -book was turned on its face, in the play of Macbeth, <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span> -and a pencil lay upon the outside, which -had been probably employed the moment before -my entrance in marking with extra-ordinary -emphasis the following passage:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poem"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">"I have lived long enough: my way of life</div> -<div class="line">Is fall'n into the sear, the yellow leaf:</div> -<div class="line">And that which should accompany old age,</div> -<div class="line">As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends</div> -<div class="line">I must not look to have; but, in their stead,</div> -<div class="line">Curses, not loud, but deep, mouth-honour, breath,</div> -<div class="line">Which the poor heart would fain deny, but dare not."</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>I instantly replaced the volume, and mused -when I left my poor friend on the singularity -of this little incident; for it is actually a fact -that, in rising to something like an abstract of -his character the night before, as I lay awake, -and contemplated the several traits which fell -under my remark, these very lines were cast up -by memory to pourtray the man.</p> - -<p>Now, philosophers tell us, that when we arrive -at the same result by the opposite processes -of synthesis and analysis, we have good ground -to believe in the correctness of an argument. -If so, your brother's picture is delineated; for <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span> -these affecting words addressed to Seyton by the -unhappy Thane, whether taken as a text from -which to deduce, or a conclusion at which you -arrive by a previous train of induction, equally -"<i>land</i>" the observer in that morbid melancholy -which has marked Douglas for her own. -His mind is of the finest material, bearing impress -of the race from which he springs. Had -he lived at home, and had his affections been -cultivated in those relations which supply successional -<i>crops</i> as it were to feed the heart, when -the first indigenous growth has died away, he -would have been a very <i>different</i> man, whether -<i>happier</i> or not we cannot tell. But loosened -by distance, and then dissevered by death from -those early bonds of instinct which "plays the -volunteer within us," he formed no new connections -to keep in exercise his best feelings, -which having lost the objects prepared for them -by nature, were scattered to the winds till they -became annihilated in diffusion. What a mistake -it is to fancy that a man acquires love for -his species in proportion to his becoming indifferent <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span> -towards individuals? Yet this is a common -error. No, true philanthropy shines on -the circumference from a glowing centre, and -the fond domestic affections are those which -send out most commonly the sweetest charities -to mankind.</p> - -<p>Douglas is not a misanthrope, but he has -met with many disappointments, as all men -must do who form their early acquaintances—friendships -I will not call them—amongst the -multitude who are only bound together by the -casual ties of pleasure and convenience. The -temporary purpose gained, or the transient gratification -satisfied, no memory remains of favour -conferred, no gratitude survives for benefits -received. While youth continues we <i>waste</i> our -resources, because they are liberally replenished, -and in the abundance and variety of the springs -from whence they flow, we cannot anticipate -a season of dearth; but the cisterns, however -bounteously supplied, will become dry at last, -and even <i>drops</i> will, in the end, seem precious -of that which we lavished before with thoughtless <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span> -prodigality. Your brother, however, is too -just to hate his fellow-creatures because he has -neglected to render himself an object of their -love; but, though he does not actually set his -mind in array against them, he is too proud to -acknowledge dependence, and his temper is not -sufficiently under controul to prevent him from -involuntarily revenging on society the insulation -which he has imposed on himself, by avoiding -rather than courting communion with the world, -for an intercourse with the best and wisest of -which he is peculiarly gifted. It would seem as -if he had laid down a law for himself to be -severe and repellent, which the natural kindness -of his character renders impossible, and -the <i>most</i> that he can achieve is an air of uncertainty -bordering on caprice, which strangers -ascribe to bad health. I suspect that during -the halcyon days of youth, religion which, in -India, has been cruelly neglected, made no part -of his concern, but a mind of such height and -depth as his can never continue careless on the -subject of its immortal interests; and, if my observations <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></span> -be correct, he is at this moment suffering -those <i>transition pangs</i> incident to the awakened -conviction of having been wrong, and -desiring to be right, which are rendered more -than commonly poignant in his instance by that -scrupulous conscientiousness which suggests the -inquiry whether his motive in searching after -truth may not partly arise from a belief that he -feels "the silver cords" beginning to give way -and threaten dissolution.</p> - -<p>You will not think me tedious in thus endeavouring -to give you a clue to the character of -one who is formed in no ordinary mould, and -for whom I anticipate all the happiness which -he is capable of enjoying at Glenalta. You will -have no difficulty to contend with, no plot to -sustain. Oh! my dear Caroline, it is worth -coming into a sophisticated scene like this, to -behold, in all its loveliness, the beauty of a single -heart. The moral like the physical circumstances -which surround us daily, are not half -appreciated, because that they want contrast. -We are ungrateful and forget our blessings. I <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</a></span> -shall have much to tell you, which I do not like -to write. Dear Arthur would furnish materials -for another sheet, but I must not lengthen this -letter, already so voluminous. Frederick's love, -with mine, to the <i>Trias Harmonica</i>, and Mr. -Oliphant. Adieu, dearest friend.</p> - - -<p class="right"><span class="padding-right4">Yours ever and sincerely,</span><br /> -<span class="smcap padding-right2">E. Otway.</span><br /> -</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p class="center">END OF VOL. II.</p> - -<p class="center">PRINTED BY J. B. NICHOLS, 25, PARLIAMENT-STREET.</p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="chap" /> -</div> - -<p>Transcriber's note</p> - -<p>Spelling and punctuation have been preserved as -printed in the original publication.<br /> -</p> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Blue-Stocking Hall, Vol. II of III, by -William Pitt Scargill - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BLUE-STOCKING HALL, VOL. II OF III *** - -***** This file should be named 52375-h.htm or 52375-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/2/3/7/52375/ - -Produced by Charlene Taylor, David K. 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